Mosaic of a Broken Heart
by NewTwilightFan
Summary: Bella doesn't let people in easily. When she does, she commits absolutely - to family, to friends, to love. With a blossoming career and a fiance she adores, there isn't much more she expects out of life. Then, a crushing revelation derails her dreams and fractures her sense of self. Gluing the pieces back together isn't easy when you can't find them all.
1. The Drop

**A/N:** Where to begin? I'll start with an enormous apology to any and all returning readers. I never intended to take such a long break. My husband and son both required surgery earlier this year and that threw me for a loop. Then, trying to get back into these characters after months away posed a whole new set of challenges. Somewhere in my subconscious they just went ahead on with their lives and left me in the dust.

This story was originally outlined to be a medium length love story with a bit of angst thrown in the middle. Now it's kind of more than that. Actually, a lot more. So I'm adding this **Disclaimer: This story will contain scenes where the characters do questionable things. Yell at them, not me. And there will be talk of rape, suicide, murder, cheating and some other dark subjects, so if those are possible triggers for you, this story is not for you.**

New readers, welcome and thanks so much for choosing to read this fic!

Returning readers, I'm sorry for the long break. Thank you so much for choosing to give this fic a second chance!

* * *

Bella squinted her eyes against the elevator's harsh fluorescent lights to check her wavering reflection one more time. She was thankful that her friend Alice had both fashion sense and common sense. The heather-gray Jersey cotton wrap dress had traveled much better than expected. Thanks to a quick pit-stop in the airport bathroom before her cab ride here, nobody would be able to tell that she had just weathered a three-hour flight from Seattle packed between hordes of rabid football fans.

With the holidays in full swing and the playoff season just around the corner, Seattle fans were rushing to Chicago to watch them face off against the Bears this coming Sunday. The challenge and expense of amending her itinerary almost made her reconsider her decision to extend her normal 3-day weekend visit to a whole week. However, Mike hadn't been able to visit last month due to obligations with work, and she was starved for some real time together; movie nights, take out dinners on the couch, coffee before work and lazy Saturday mornings in bed like the ones they used to spend together during college.

She had tapped into her rainy-day account to prepare for the trip, wanting to make it special and memorable for both of them. Her heart took a few double beats in anticipation of Mike's reaction to her surprise. They had originally made plans for him to pick her up from O'Hare at lunch time on Thursday. Instead, she had reservations for a Tuesday night dinner at Shaw's Crab House and then, if the weather held, they could take a walk along the Navy Pier. Of course, if it was too windy they could come back here and spend the evening in bed. She would take either option. Or both.

She hadn't alerted Mike to her change of plans. She hadn't told him about many of the ideas that were percolating in her head. The truth was, the months of separation and increasingly stilted phone calls were taking their toll. Even before their engagement nine months ago she was seriously considering looking for local job prospects. Now, having experienced almost three years of jet-lagged weekends and too-short vacations, she was ready to take the leap and unite her life with his in every way that mattered. If she moved to Chicago, they could move up the wedding plans instead of waiting for Mike's boss to finally grant him the promotion and transfer to the Seattle office that he'd been dangling in front of him for the last two years. While living together in Seattle would have been ideal, being with him again was what she really wanted. They would regain their lazy Saturday mornings and every day in between.

Bella knew it would hurt to leave her friends, move further from her Dad and give up all the progress she had made at McCarty Commercial Partners. Emmett McCarty was set to inherit the four-generation real estate development firm and had taken her on as a wet-behind-the-ears college intern. Now, only three and a half years after graduation, she was a lead project manager. She knew that her rate of promotion was far faster than the norm which may have been due in large part to her friendship with Emmett and his wife, Rosalie. However, being part of a thriving family-owned company and tackling the challenges of her position had caused her to grow in ways she had never anticipated.

If she was being totally honest with herself, she knew the reason she hadn't spoken to Mike about moving to Chicago yet was because she could already anticipate his response and knew how much it would hurt. He had never been happy about her decision to stay behind in Seattle after graduation. Neither of them had wanted the strain of a long distance relationship and Mike had gone so far as to remind her that his Chicago offers were much stronger than her prospects so she probably wouldn't even have to work. Having fought so hard to lay the groundwork for a career she could be proud of, it would tear her up inside to take a step back or away. Her fear that any part of him might feel vindicated by her decision to walk away from it all would only make the pain burn deeper.

But not as much as it would hurt to lose Mike, she thought.

From freshman study partners to dating their junior year, he had always been so sweet and fun. Their relationship didn't have quite the fire and spontaneity of Alice's train of passionate love affairs, or the fierce, single-minded devotion she saw between Emmett and Rosalie, but there was warmth, comfort and trust between her and Mike. She couldn't stand spending so much time away from him.

The chime of the elevator broke through her reverie. The elevator doors opened to reveal the 17th floor foyer which included a small sitting area in front of an electric hearth. Floor-to ceiling windows on either end of the hall gave her a breathtaking view of the evening skyline and dazzling city lights. She adjusted the strap of her purse and settled her coat more comfortably over her arm before grabbing the handle of her suitcase and wheeling it across the plush sitting area. This was her first visit since Mike moved into his new apartment six weeks earlier and she was impressed. The earth-toned décor was simple and clean with charcoal sketches of local architecture lining the walls. The entire area had an easy, reassuring feel.

Bella stopped in front of #1703 and took a deep breath before raising her hand to knock. In that quiet moment between the exhalation of her last breath and her knuckles striking the wood, an unfamiliar sound made her freeze. At first, she was sure she had the wrong door, but she had mailed several care packages here and the address was clear in her mind. There it was again. . . a high, feminine laugh. Only this time it was echoed by one so familiar that her heart throbbed with a sudden, tearing pain.


	2. Impact

"Mike, let go. I'm starving. Mmmm. Wait, stop. Baby, please. . . After we eat, I promise."

"Oh, Jess. I'm hungry, too. Come here. Come back here and give me another taste."

"Eww, Mike. Stop. Stop! I'm hungry for pizza and it'll be here any second."

While she knew Mike's voice so well, the gruff tone and sex-laden words were so unfamiliar that she began to question her sense of reality. He sounded like a different person. Frozen there at his door, an unwelcome witness to his infidelity, she desperately wished she had told him she was coming early. At least it would have saved her from this horrific discovery. And now what should she do? Go back home? Call him and challenge him over the phone? Confront him now?

With her throat closed tight around her hurt and denial, Bella struck the door four times with her fist. A squeak of alarm and another giggle followed.

"See? I told you it would be here any second!" The door swung open revealing a cute, curvy girl still in the act of tying on a pink silk robe. The girl called over her shoulder before really looking at Bella, "Babe, can you grab the cash from the kitchen counter? Wait a minute. Who are you? Are you lost?"

Unable to find her voice, Bella just shook her head. Across the living room she watched Mike, her Mike, swipe some cash off the counter. His blond hair was a mess, like it was when he'd just toweled off after a shower. In partially unbuttoned jeans and nothing else she could see his body was leaner and more toned than the last time she saw him. He looked more like he did in college before long work hours and the stress of his high-profile marketing job took their toll on him. He looked like the Mike she'd fallen so hard for years ago.

Their eyes met and he went rigid with shock. "Bella? What are you. . . Why? I thought I was picking you up day after tomorrow? How. . .?"

His jumbled words, her own confusion and the rapid questions from 'Jess', became a tangled whirlwind of noise in her ears. Her vision seemed to narrow into a tunnel of gray and she felt her legs collapse.

"Are you cheating on me?" The words came out like a whispered sob.

A few gasping breaths later she cried, "Are you cheating on me, Mike?" He continued staring at her with his mouth gaping.

Louder now, the unfamiliar flavor of anger crept into her tone. "Tell me!"

"I wanted to tell you, I just didn't know how. I don't think I want to get married. . ."

His discomfort was obvious, from his wavering voice to his shuffling feet. Bella could hear the other girl yelling at both of them, but the words themselves were unintelligible. She was searching Mike's face for something, some clue as to why he had wanted to do this, choosing to abandon their dreams, their plans and their entire future together. She had been ready to sacrifice everything for him because just having him was going to be enough for her. And now, what did she have?

He was woven into every part of her heart. She considered him before every decision. She fantasized about him at night. All of her plans included him. Revolved around him. Her life had been transformed when she chose to love him and she could never reverse all that she knew, felt, and dreamed with him. She couldn't move forward to tomorrow. Her tomorrow no longer existed. Her now was something unrecognizable.

And it hurt. So much. Her lungs were burning for oxygen but she couldn't seem to breathe. Her heart was pounding fast. So fast. In her ears and in her throat.

Oh, God, it hurt.

Bella felt as if her skin were blistering and bleeding. Every nerve was firing at once and her mind couldn't keep up. Bursts of heat danced like crimson pinwheels behind her eyes, making her gasp and wobble.

The heel of her right boot was digging into the back of her left thigh. Somehow that simple discomfort grounded her. The new pain was so loud and fast and coarse that she couldn't process it. But plain old physical pain was comforting. Rather than shifting her foot, she pressed her left thigh harder against the edge of the heel until the scrape of jagged plastic against tender skin began to cut through the chaos.

Through the fog of pain and disillusionment several thoughts rang clear:

She had a father who would sacrifice anything just to see her happy and taken care of.

She had friends who loved her.

She had a home and a job in Seattle.

That would be enough. It would have to be. Somehow she would make it enough. After all, Mike wasn't giving her any other choice. Part of her wanted to curl into herself and around the fierce knot of pain in her belly. Another part, a part she didn't recognize, was pulsing with the heat of a foreign emotion.

It was dark and burned like ice. But it was fierce and strong. It beckoned. _Hatred_.

She wanted to hate him. For his lies. For his cowardice. For destroying their future. Hating him would be so easy.

"Jessica, please. I didn't tell you because I was going to break it off with her this weekend. I didn't want to hurt you. You're everything to me. Baby, believe me, it's been over between us for so long, we were just too stuck in the habit of being together to realize it."

Mike's pleading tone and Jessica's sobs sank into Bella's consciousness. Her eyes were blurred with unshed tears and her throat felt as raw as if she'd been screaming for hours. But she knew she hadn't made a sound. From her position on the floor Bella watched Jessica sink into Mike's arms where he sheltered her, rocking her from side to side, stroking her curly brown hair and whispering to her.

A cold snake of rage twisted in the pit of her stomach. He'd held her like that and comforted her when she'd lost her mother to breast cancer during her second year of college. They weren't even dating then and he had stayed with her and held her in her narrow bed with all the lights on until she could sleep through the night again. For more than two weeks he had smoothed away the knife-edged pain of her loss and comforted her as she grieved. It had been the turning point in their friendship; the defining moment that made her sure it was safe to let him into her closest held emotions. Only her father held a larger piece of her heart. And now she was just an old habit to him? A worn out relationship left over from his college days?

Her anger roiled inside until she felt it fill her core with white hot steel. She pulled herself back to her feet and felt the anger possess her from her scalp to her toes. Caught off guard by the sudden movement, Mike's eyes whipped back to her in alarm. Something in her expression must have scared him because he rocked back a step. Seeing that gave her an odd jolt of pleasure.

"I think I should go now. Bye, Mike. I wish you all that you deserve. Nothing more, nothing less."

She found it easier than she expected to smile at him as she turned to leave, her suitcase wheels dragging twin snake-tracks from his apartment back to the elevator. The elevator chimed and the doors opened just as she got there. The pizza delivery boy gave her a startled look as he walked past her. She understood why once the doors closed.

Her reflection was unrecognizable from just 10 minutes earlier. Her eyes gleamed with tears, framed by red rims and too-white skin. Her cheeks were flushed to a chaotic crimson by the blood of her rage. Even as fair-skinned as she was, she'd never been a blusher. She held her emotions too tightly reined for that. But now, every trace of feeling within her rippled across her reflection in a startling display of disorder. She could sense hysteria rising and locked eyes with herself, willing her lips to stop quivering, her nostrils to relax, her brow to settle back into smooth complacency. By the time she completed her descent to the ground floor, an implacable shell enclosed her emotional turmoil and the only sign that remained was an odd brightness to her eyes.

She didn't allow herself to cry. He didn't deserve that.


	3. Damage Assessment

On the curb waiting for a cab, Bella tuned everything out except the problem immediately in front of her. It was her ability to focus single-mindedly on a challenge until she reached the solution that made her such a good project manager. Her current dilemma was simple compared to holding together real estate development deals while juggling the expectations of the city and county governments, investors and contractors.

Finding a flight home and redrawing her life's blueprints without Mike in them should be pretty straight forward. They each had their own apartments, cars, bank accounts and friends. Her heart twisted with that thought - she wasn't going to lose anything material due to him leaving her. It was the shock of the emotional meteor strike that she was going to have to work around. But not yet. Right now she just needed to get home. She could use the remaining time off from work to sanitize her apartment of anything to do with him and probably still have time for an overnight visit with her father in Forks before returning to work next Tuesday.

The chill, dry Chicago breeze flipped her hair in writhing tendrils around her face. She tied the belt of her coat snuggly around her middle and stepped to the edge of the sidewalk to hail the first in-service cab she saw. The cabby pulled up tight to the curb and hopped out to load her suitcase into the trunk.

"O'Hare departures, please," she said as she angled into the maroon-upholstered rear seat.

"I'll have you there in 18 minutes," he grinned, rubbing his hands together briskly, and pulled back into traffic. "Some evenings, it can be a real _Bear_ getting in and out of the airport. Pun intended, of course. But the weather's been nice and dry and the roads are good. We'll have you there soon safe as a bug in a rug."

Bella dredged up a smile and replied, "Thanks a lot. That's reassuring. I don't want to miss my flight."

"Where are you heading?"

"Back to Seattle. It's rainy, but at least it's predictable." Small talk felt awkward so she busied herself with removing the clips from her hair and tying the wind-snarled strands into a low ponytail.

"Wooeee," the cabbie whistled, looking back at her in the rear-view mirror. "That's some rock! I bet your fiancé is quite a guy. When my wife and I got engaged, we couldn't afford two slices of bread to make a sandwich so we picked her ring out at the Goodwill store. It wasn't much, but she loved it. Still wears it, too. Woulda been nice to get her something like that, though. Dang." He shook his head with a friendly grin and rolled his eyes comically.

Bella shifted uncomfortably but thanked him and gritted her teeth to form another smile. It felt stiff and plastic but he didn't seem to notice.

"Do you have any good radio stations around here?" Maybe music would put a halt to further conversation.

"Sure do. My favorite is the classic rock station, 95.9, but my daughter likes that pop stuff. You can't be much older than her. Do you like Justin Beiber?"

"Um, no, rock is fine."

"My kinda gal!" he winked at her and turned on the radio. With a jovial whoop he launch into a bad karaoke version of _American Woman_, hammering out the base line on the steering wheel while Bella settled herself more comfortably into the back seat.

She caught herself twisting her ring back and forth. It was a habit she developed months ago whenever she was thinking hard or feeling anxious. Acid burned in the back of her throat and she swallowed hard against the rising pressure in her gut. With one vicious twist she pulled the platinum band off and shoved it in her coat pocket. She didn't know what she would do with it and didn't want to think about it now. She would think about it tomorrow.

Left alone again inside her head, Bella leaned back and shut her eyes against the nauseating blur of passing lights. Cutting off her sense of sight only made the cabby's singing seem louder, but at least her stomach was beginning to settle down. Ticking through her required steps, Bella outlined her return trip in her head and then went back to considering her budget. Without the expense of eating out all week, she should have no trouble paying for the flight change. She could redirect the money she had been setting aside for her half of their wedding expenses and down-payment on a condominium to finish paying off her student loan balance. In about seven more months she would be debt free. Maybe she could move into a nicer apartment. Buy a car. Help her dad remodel his hideous olive-green bathroom.

She wouldn't have to run any of these decisions through Mike. She was completely independent. It felt lonely to think that. Lonely and cold. But deep within her belly the blaze of anger was still burning brightly and it warmed her.

When the cab pulled up to the terminal Bella checked the meter and handed the driver cash. She was down to less than $20 in her purse and made a mental note to find an ATM after she got her new flight sorted out.

"Thanks for the ride."

"No problem, miss. It was a pleasure. Stay warm and have a safe flight." She accepted her suitcase from him and was crossing the sidewalk when she heard him launch into another old hit before he shut the door and pulled away from the curb.

A blast of warm air greeted her when she entered the terminal. It was 7 PM and still just as crowded as when she left less than two hours earlier. She found the United check in line and joined the queue. Most of the other passengers were completing their check in at the automated terminals, but the line in front of her still moved slowly. The clock above the counter crept around steadily. Her feet were aching and she felt the first tremors of a spasm forming in her left calf muscle. It was almost 8 o'clock before Bella approached the smiling clerk. She handed over her return flight boarding pass and asked to reschedule her flight to the earliest time possible.

"Well, let me see what we can do for you, Ms. Swan. It looks like I have a couple of First Class seats available on Thursday at 4:27 in the afternoon. Or, if you prefer a morning flight, we have several seats open on Friday morning. It's a flight to LA with a short layover and then we'll have you back in Seattle by Friday evening."

"But I want to leave tonight."

"Our last flight has already boarded and we had 13 passengers on stand-by. I'm sorry ma'am, but Thursday evening is our first flight with available seats. Would you like to purchase a ticket?"

"You said it was first class. How much?"

"With the transfer fee and upgrade to first class your total will be $1127.34."

Bella cringed internally but handed over her debit card without any objection. She wanted to get out of Chicago as soon as possible. Even if she had to wait 40 hours it was better than being stuck in the same city as Mike and Jessica for a whole week. She knew there were several affordable hotels at the north end of the airport. Maybe she could catch a shuttle up there.

"I'm so sorry ma'am, but your card has been declined. Do you have another way to pay?"

"No. That's impossible. I have more than enough money in the account and I just used it to pay for breakfast this morning. Can you try it again?"

"I ran it through twice. Your financial institution has declined the charge. Perhaps you can contact them and work it out. If you step right over there you can call them, and just wave to me when you're ready for me to try again."

Bella felt her fingers and toes begin to go numb. The gray cloud returned to hover around her peripheral vision. She forced herself to take slow even breaths and dragged her suitcase to the end of the service counter to make her call.

Her fingers were stiff and slow as she dialed the customer service number from the back of her card. When the phone rang through to a pre-recorded message she realized just how screwed she was. Her father had helped her open her bank account at the Forks Credit Union during the summer before freshman year of high school, and she had never moved her account to a larger bank. It was after 6 PM in Forks, Washington and the credit union had been closed for more than an hour now. She wasn't going to be able to speak to anyone until tomorrow morning. Anxiety prickled her scalp and made the space between her shoulder blades itch.

Using every calming exercise she knew, Bella slowed her breathing and heart rate down until the numbness left her fingers and she could see clearly again. She spotted an ATM across the lobby and hurried to it. She swiped her card, punched in her PIN and almost bounced with relief when the normal menu options appeared. She requested a $200 cash withdrawal and agreed to the exorbitant $3.50 fee without hesitating. When the screen turned black and text appeared telling her the withdrawal was declined her control cracked.

"Shit, shit, shit. What the fuck is wrong with you?" she hissed between clenched teeth. She started the process over, praying for a different result. Denied again.

Tears were gathering in her eyes again and she swallowed hard to hold them at bay. Why didn't she have a real bank? Who cares if the big banks are evil and sapping the lifeblood from the middle class when the local banks can't even give you your money when you need it? Or she could have at least gotten a credit card to start building up her credit history like Alice suggested. Why did she insist on her own ideas of responsibility and independence? Now she was trapped in this horrible airport overnight with less than $20 in her pocket!

She was hissing expletives under her breath while shoving her useless debit card back into her wallet when she felt a tap on her shoulder.


	4. Rescue Operations

"I'm sorry. I don't want to intrude, but you look like you're about to disembowel that ATM in front of hundreds of witnesses and I doubt getting dragged off by airport security will improve your evening. Can I help you?"

Bella shrugged her purse higher on her shoulder and wiped away the few tears that had managed to escape. Four people were waiting in line for the ATM wearing a range of expressions from sympathy to irritated impatience. When did they get there? How long had she been cursing that damned machine? She murmured an embarrassed apology before stepping aside and looking up at the stranger. He stood several inches taller than her even with her high-heeled boots.

"Thanks. I think. No, I'm not going to go postal but I have had one of the worst days in recorded history and I can't see it getting better anytime soon."

"I'm Edward, by the way. Do you want to sit down over there and maybe we can figure out which way is up?"

Unsure what other action to take, Bella shrugged and followed him to a row of black vinyl chairs where she sat down gingerly on the edge of the last chair in the row.

"So. . ." he looked at her expectantly while she fidgeted with the zipper pull of her coat pocket.

Bella returned his stare for a moment before sighing resignedly and launching into a jumbled explanation of her situation. "I'm stranded here until tomorrow morning because there's something wrong with my debit card and I really want to get the hell out of this city but my flight doesn't leave until next Monday evening and I tried to reschedule it but my stupid hick credit union screwed up something with my account and I won't even be able to sort it out until tomorrow morning and I hate airport food and I was supposed to have the most amazing dinner tonight. Shit. I forgot about canceling the reservations. This just. . . SUCKS!"

"Wow. Sooo. . . If I understand you correctly, you're really fucked."

"Excuse me?" Bella looked up in surprise from digging in her purse for her phone.

"Sorry. I was paraphrasing," Edward shrugged with a wink. "Seriously, though, if the biggest problem right now is food and somewhere to stay tonight, you're in luck. I have an empty guest room at my apartment and the best pizza place in Chicago is less than two blocks from my place. Unless you have a friend here in town that could pick you up and let you crash at their place tonight."

"I. . . no. There's no one. But I really couldn't impose on you. That's just too much."

"No imposition. I was supposed to fly out today but my meeting got cancelled because the other party had a family emergency so I'm at loose ends until Friday morning. Kind of a serendipitous mishap, if you like that sort of thing."

"A serendipitous mishap? Who says that?" Bella couldn't help smiling. The hysteria was still churning just below the surface, but she wasn't feeling quite as desperate as she had been moments earlier. He had a cheerful presence and it calmed her.

"Poets and over-caffeinated travelers do. Here's my idea and let me know if it works for you: Call a friend or colleague, give them my name and address so you've got someone on the outside who knows where you are and that you're okay, then we'll take a cab back into town, you can check out the guest room and decide if you're comfortable claiming it for a night, then we can bury our faces in a deep-dish pie with every topping known to man piled on top. How does that sound?"

"Crazy but awesome. But I really don't need to call anyone. I just need to let the restaurant know . . ." there she paused. Her reservation had been for 7 pm. It was over 90 minutes passed. If they were pressed for space they would have surely given the table away more than an hour ago. "Nevermind. That's not a big deal. Lead the way."

"Look, I don't know your name, or who you are, or why you're here, or where you're going. But I do know that you look like you've had a hell of a day, and you probably aren't thinking and responding exactly like you normally would. I would feel more comfortable if you at least made contact with someone you trust and let them know you're okay and what your plans are. Here's my name and address," he said as he scrawled his information on the back of a receipt he pulled from his wallet.

Bella accepted the slip gingerly and took a moment to really look at her would-be rescuer. He appeared to be a few years older than her, maybe 30. He had auburn hair with gold highlights and the kind of angular features that normally graced the pages of fashion magazines. But where male models had an aloof and almost feminine air about them, he was warm, direct and boyishly charming. He was dressed for travel in relaxed-fit jeans and an untucked grayish-blue button-down shirt. She glanced at the seat next to him where he had set his briefcase and a garment bag. He was telling the truth about traveling for business, then. But should she be driving off with a stranger to stay at his apartment? Her instincts told her she could trust him, but she was hesitant to trust her own people sense. She couldn't have missed the mark further than she had with Mike. And let's not forget that Ted Bundy was handsome, friendly, outgoing. . . and a psychotic serial killer.

Bella looked at the receipt in her lap. His handwriting was neat and balanced, walking across the paper in tidy loops and lines. Edward Masen, 2101 East Tanner Street, PH2, Chicago. He was right. The smart and responsible thing to do would be to call Alice or her dad and let them know where she was and what she was doing. But she wasn't ready for questions or explanations. She had to come to terms with her own feelings about Mike's betrayal before she could face anyone else's responses. How was she supposed to approach this? She couldn't fake a call with him sitting right next to her. Could she?

She looked up and realized he was scrolling through information on his phone, doing his best to give her a bit of privacy. A solution popped into her head and she dialed her office phone.

_Ring. Ring._

_Hello, you've reached Isabella Swan, Project Manager at McCarty Commercial Partners. I will be out of the office starting Tuesday, December 9__th_ _and returning on Tuesday, December 16__th__. If this is an urgent matter, please dial zero and ask to speak with my assistant, Angela Weber. Otherwise, please leave a message with your contact information and I will get back to you when I return. Thank you._

Bella adopted a cheerful tone and did her best not to look at Edward while she left her message.

"Hey, Alice. It's Bella. Sorry I missed you. I just wanted to give you a heads up that I'll be coming home earlier than planned. I have to work out an issue with my debit card, but I should be flying back on Thursday evening. I'll call you tomorrow to confirm. A really nice guy offered me the use of his guest room so you can reach me there if my phone isn't working for any reason. His name is Edward Masen. He lives at 2101 East Tanner Street, PH2 here in Chicago and his phone number is XXX-XXX-XXXX. Make sure you finish all your Christmas shopping before I get back so I'm not roped into going out with you. Thanks and I'll talk to you soon!"

She had just hung up when her phone lit up with an incoming call. Alice's face blinked on her screen and she hastily sent the call to voicemail before putting the phone on silent, locking the screen and popping it back into her purse.

"All set?"

"Yep. Lead on, mon capitaine."

"Captain, huh? I seriously doubt the military would accept a degenerate rake like me, but if they did you could be my first mate."

Bella's eyes darted up to his face, shocked by the apparent innuendo. Her face was already burning from her humiliation with the ATM, now her cheeks were positively flaming. He returned her stare with a teasing grin and gestured her through the sliding doors ahead of him. She shook her head, caught between crippling mortification and thinking that it was really nice to have someone flirt with her and not feel like she had to diplomatically put them in their place. Edward was funny, gorgeous and genuinely friendly. Why shouldn't she enjoy herself? She had no obligations to anyone but herself. She had nothing to feel guilty about.

Edward hurried ahead of her and flagged down a cab that had just dropped off a small family - an over-burdened couple with a sleepy looking little boy. The cab driver left the trunk open for them to load their baggage. Moments later they were seated in the cab and pulling away from the terminal. Edward gave the driver his address then turned to her with a hesitant smile. The almost cocky air he adopted in public had morphed into something a bit more shy and tentative.

"So, Bella."

"Yes."

"Short for Isabella?"

"Yes. Isabella Swan. Ironic, I know."

His lips curved up into the sexy smirk that she had already assigned to his 'Casanova' persona. "Not ironic at all. Very fitting, actually."

"Yeah, well. You haven't seen me trip up a flight of stairs, knock over end cap displays at the grocery store or spill coffee on my keyboard three times in a single morning. Poise and grace are not my strong points."

"Do you have an upcoming performance? I'll buy tickets. You can put the proceeds towards your 'credit union hate mail' campaign."

"That's an excellent plan. I deserve to make some money off all the times I've served up laughs to the general public at my own expense. Maybe you could be my manager."

"And choreographer."

"Publicity agent."

"Wardrobe designer."

"Make-up artist."

"Whipping boy."

"What!?" she squeaked.

"If you're into that kind of thing, that is."

"Um. No. At least I don't think so."

"Oh well, it was worth a try."

"You're incorrigible."

"Why yes, yes I am. My mom used to say that all the time. My dad just says I'm a pain in the ass."

"I think I like him already."

"Most women do. He's a hot doctor."

"I can't say I've entertained that particular fantasy. I was into racecar drivers as a kid. Something about the helmet, I think. It hides their face. Makes them look mysterious."

"You like guys who drive fast? I think I can work with that."

"Wow, this conversation is already going 15 over. Maybe we should slow down a bit. My dad's a cop. Wouldn't want to get a ticket."

"Point taken. Easing off the gas, applying gentle pressure to the brakes and look, how convenient, here we are!"

Their easy banter and laughter made the time fly. Bella was surprised that they were back in the city already and pulling up in front of an elegant high rise condominium. She didn't realize she was frozen in place with one foot on the ground and one still in the cab until Edward offered her his hand.

"Here let me help you. Rafael will get our bags."

"Rafael. . . right." She cleared her throat uncomfortably. This was no Best Western, that's for sure.


	5. Aerie

The evening had taken a very surreal turn. Bella looked around in shock as Edward towed her through the glass doors and across the lobby. Uniformed doormen, floors polished to the point that they reflected every light fixture in exquisite detail, elevator doors which appeared to be solid slabs of dark-stained walnut. . . She was out of her element here. She was starting to feel very uncomfortable. Who was this guy? Bruce Wayne?

Edward released her hand when they reached the bank of elevators. Bella shoved her hands into her jacket, absentmindedly fidgeting with the ring in her left pocket. The light above the elevator illuminated with the sound of a silvery chime. Bella allowed him to usher her in before him. She turned and leaned against the paneled walls with a sigh. Another elevator ride, but so different than earlier. Her anxiety now came from a much different source. Edward swiped his key fob and typed in a 7 digit code. The doors closed and they began their ascent. Bella closed her eyes, drawing in a deep breath. Murphy's Oil, a hint of cigar smoke, and another scent she could not identify; a touch of sweetness and cinnamon and musk. The combination made her head spin.

"You're not talking." Edward looked concerned, maybe even a bit self-conscious. He must have noticed her frantic rubber-necking and bulging eyes when they entered the building. She withdrew her hands from her pockets and glanced up at him with a rueful smile on her lips.

"I think I swallowed my tongue when Raphael took my suitcase," Bella said, trying to restore the atmosphere of lighthearted humor from the cab ride.

"Oh. Right. Raphael has been the lead doorman here since they built the place 4 years ago. And I think he was the lead doorman at a boutique hotel before that. He's enthusiastic. He takes pride in his job, I guess."

"No. You misunderstood me. Raphael seems great. Um, I'm more in shock that you even have a doorman to take your luggage. Where did he go anyway?"

"Freight elevator. It's faster. Our stuff will be there when we-"

Ding!

"Aha. Here we are." Edward looked as relieved as she felt to escape the confines of the elevator and the uncomfortable conversation.

Well, I guess I've really blown the mood now, thought Bella. She followed Edward meekly down the hall to the left. She felt a bit nervous now that they were here, alone and no longer on neutral territory. This was his turf. She wasn't scared, but she was definitely intimidated. There appeared to be only two apartments on this level. Like the lobby, the floor was polished white marble with meandering veins of slate-gray and jade. A runner of dark, smoky-green carpet ran the length of the hallway and came to a stop in front of double doors. A brass plaque labeled this the entrance to PH2.

_Oh. PH 2, for Penthouse 2. I get it. Duh._

"You have a penthouse apartment?"

"Well, I have a roommate. I don't have the whole thing to myself." Edward sounded almost apologetic. Was he a touch uneasy with the evidence of his own wealth? Or was it just Bella's discomfort rubbing off on him?

He pushed the right-hand door open and ushered her in before him. Sure enough, their luggage was placed next to a table in the entryway. Rafael really was fast. She relaxed her shoulder enough to let her heavy purse slip down until it rested on the floor next to her worn, black JanSport suitcase.

The entry split three ways with a long hallway to the left, a spacious kitchen that featured stainless steel appliances, glass cabinets and fancy track lighting to the right, and before her were two carpeted steps leading down to an enormous living room. Her eyes took in the overstuffed black leather couches, baby grand piano, shelves upon shelves of CDs along one wall and the exterior wall which was one uninterrupted sheet of glass.

"Whoa. That's. . . quite a view." She felt dazed and a little light-headed as she looked out across the harbor; the inky water lit up at random intervals by the lights of ships, yachts and smaller craft. It was like a scene from a dream with alien spaceships dancing in slow motion across a surreal plane, while she looked down on them from her aerie, wrapped in a cocoon of light.

It wasn't winter up here. Instead she was experiencing the perfect balance of warmth and humidity and stillness. She untied her coat and slipped it off her shoulders, barely acknowledging Edward when he took it from her and hung it from a hook near the door. She took several steps toward the wall of windows, captivated by the ballet of lights winking across the black expanse. "So this is how a goldfish feels," Bella sighed.

"Actually, nobody can see in. From the outside, the windows look black whether the lights are on or off. It's a new glass coating the military uses to prevent security leaks from spy satellites and zoom lens cameras while still enabling high-ranking officials to have windows in their homes and offices. It has the added benefit of superior impact resistance. I would explain it to you, but I really have no clue how it works myself."

"Right. You work for the CIA."

He burst out laughing at that; a rich, light-hearted tenor full of sunshine and color. "Nope. Actually, I received my Bachelor's Degree in Architecture and worked for a local architectural design firm before I went back for my MBA five years ago. I'm just a nerd for new materials, so when I heard about it I had to see if they could add it to the plans. It turned out to be pretty lucrative, too. We included some details about it in the marketing materials when we put the first units up for sale and the response was unbelievable. There are a lot of paranoid business executives in the world."

"So you designed this building? That's just. . . I think I'm speechless."

"Don't clam up on me again. I like your voice." His lopsided smile warmed her almost as much as his laughter.

"You're not answering the question."

"I didn't design it. I worked on the design team. Actually, I was more of an errand boy than anything else. Definitely not the lead. But I didn't bring you here to talk about me. We're here because nobody should have to sleep on those hideous chairs at the airport. Let me show you the guestroom and you can tell me what you think."

"Yes!"

"What?"

"Yes, it looks great."

"You haven't even seen it yet!"

"But I have seen this," she said, sweeping her arm wide to include the living area with its nocturnal dreamscape backdrop.

He looked askance at her while scratching the back of his neck. "You want to sleep on the couch? Wouldn't you prefer a bit of privacy?"

"It's more private than being caught snoring and drooling in the middle of the airport."

"You are a master of understatement. But seriously, at least take a look." He adopted a tempting, sing-song voice and beckoned her to follow him back across the room. "It has its own attached bathroom."

"Fine," she sighed dramatically. She shot one more wistful glance out the window before following Edward down the hall. He walked slowly, explaining how they developed the plans for this apartment in a voice that made it clear he loved his job.

"You probably noticed that this floor is split between two units. The floor below us has more internal square footage so we divided it into four units and all the other levels have eight units per floor with a mix of 1-, 2-, and 3-bedroom floor plans. I don't actually own this unit, my employer does. We've found that it's good to have a presence within new buildings as the units sell and the community builds an identity. If there is any problem with exterior or interior finish-work, we have the opportunity to catch it and address it before it becomes a PR nightmare. And, as members of the condominium owner's association, we can glean uncensored feedback from the buyers which we use in future projects. It's also a smart networking move. It takes quite a bit of capital to put up a high-rise and new project partners are always in demand. Normally this kind of perk goes to a higher ranking team-member, but everyone else was pretty well settled in their own homes so they offered it to me."

As he wound down Bella realized that they had come to a stop in front of another doorway. She hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings while he was speaking. It was too easy to be sucked in by the sound of his voice; soft as velvet and chocolaty smooth. Even when he slipped into his professional voice she got lost in it.

Edward reached around the door frame to flick on the light switch then stepped back to let her enter alone. Her boots sank into the lush ivory rug. She walked to the center of the room before turning slowly in a complete circle to take it all in.

The windows of this room were still prominent, but they didn't take up the entire west wall. Instead, they were framed by traditional molding and dressed with sheer dove-gray curtains. The shoreline stretched out below her, lit up by the glow of city lights and passing cars.

The bed was only a queen sized platform bed. Somehow that surprised her. With the sheer size of the condo and the lush furnishings she had already seen, she expected a bed the size of a ball field in every room. The pillows and linens were an abstract pattern of grays, black and deep, royal purple which managed to tread the line between masculine and feminine perfectly. The furniture was black with simple lines and brushed nickel hardware, giving the room a grounded feeling. It would have been a touch too austere if it weren't for the lighting. Each bedside lamp was shaded with dark fabric which emitted a subtle purple glow. The paintings on the walls were scenes of idyllic country landscapes bathed in a soft pink haze by small LED spotlights. The room hummed with a warm and slightly sensual ambiance.

Two doors, presumably the bathroom and closet, framed a mirror, vanity and padded stool on the south side of the bedroom. Bella glanced back at Edward who was watching her from the doorway with a quiet smile on his lips.

"Are you an interior decorator, too?"

"No, I can't take credit. But our interior design team is pretty fantastic. You should see what they did with Jasper's room. He's my roommate. And you should check out the bathroom. Am I right in assuming your answer is still yes?"

"Hell yes!"

He chuckled at her response. "Then I'll grab your suitcase for you and you can get settled in. Are you still up for pizza?"

"Edward Masen, you are a god among men. Yes. I'm beyond starved. I'll be ready to go in ten minutes."

"My ego likes you. A lot. I'll be right back." He disappeared back down the hallway.

Bella did another complete turn before flopping backwards onto the bed. Mmmmm. Pillow top. Make that 15 minutes.


	6. Let's Talk

"Knock knock. Hey, um. . . are you conscious?"

"No. Go away. I'm in heaven right now and I don't want to be disturbed."

"Right. I'll just order the pizza to e delivered and have them swing by the pearly gates. Do you think Saint Peter tips well?"

Bella tried to ignore the twinge of anxiety when he mentioned ordering pizza. Her mind flashed back to the scared look on the pizza delivery boy's face when she fled Mike's apartment. Suddenly pizza didn't sound so appetizing.

"I changed my mind. I'm hungry, but not hungry enough to go back outside. It's too cold. And my feet hurt. These boots are evil. I just need a bowl of Cheerios or Frosted Flakes and I'm good."

"That's cool. I'm getting too old to eat pizza at 10 pm. Heartburn's a bitch. But I'm pretty certain I can do better than cold cereal. Come on. Kick off those boots - which look absolutely gorgeous on you by the way - and meet me out in the kitchen. We'll find you something."

Bella groaned and opened her eyes. Edward had paused in the doorway, his eyes trained on her legs. Bella looked down to realize that her dress had flipped up when she lay down and her legs were exposed from mid-thigh down to where her boots stopped just below the knee. She hadn't intended to flash so much skin and Edward obviously wasn't expecting it either. She looked up again to see him step back out of the room awkwardly with a dusky blush staining his neck and cheeks.

Bella levered herself up onto her elbows and eyed the empty doorway. 24 hours ago she would have known exactly how to handle any romantic advances. If a guy asked her for her number or a date or even flirted too overtly, she would have calmly informed him that she was engaged but was flattered by his interest. The diamond on her ring finger had been a pretty effective deterrent and so she didn't have much cause to practice, but it was very simple and straightforward all the same. Easy. Now she really didn't know how she would respond to a guy being interested in her.

Edward was an attractive guy. Very attractive. 'Socialites in the tabloids' kind of attractive. She felt plain and awkward in comparison. She had no idea what he really thought of her, but his playful flirty words made her think there might be something.

Bella pushed herself up to sitting and eased her feet out of her boots and socks. Her toes were stiff and sore from hours of being compressed by the stiff leather. She sniffed self-consciously. And they smelled like she had been wearing boots all day, too.

Eww. I am not going out there to eat dinner with some hot stranger with stinky feet, she thought.

Bella padded across the room to investigate the two mystery doors. The first proved to be the most enormous walk in closet she'd ever seen. Having been inside Alice's house, that was quite a statement. Alice had begged and pleaded with her parents until they finally caved and converted the guest bedroom next to her room into a walk-in closet with an adjoining sewing room where she worked on her own fashion designs. This closet made hers look like a kid's room.

The polished wood organization system was a far cry more sophisticated than her own melamine shelves. The heady scent of cedar permeated the air, dissipating the feeling of lethargy that had stolen over her when she lay down. She counted five mirrors. Her reflection told her that more than her stinky feet needed attention. Flicking off the light switch, she went to see what was behind door number two.

Her jaw dropped a little when she entered the bathroom. She could definitely see why Edward highlighted it as a selling point. It wasn't too big; in fact, it probably took up less square footage than the closet. However, this space was all about luxury and comfort. Bella felt like she had just walked into a spa. The tub was deep and triangular in shape, taking up the whole corner of the room. The tile shelf behind it held a line of pillar candle in various shades of purple and cream, burned down to different levels. An ornate nickel stand held rolled towels and washcloths. The shower, encased in glass, sparkled as if it had just been cleaned – or maybe it had never been used. The toilet, discreetly hidden behind a low wall to the left, looked far more complicated than any toilet she had ever used before.

First things first, she thought. I really need to pee.

Not knowing which chrome button to press when she was finished, Bella tried all three and was surprised by an unexpected geyser of warm water before the water rushed away down however many stories it took to reach the sewers below. She was not prepared for that and had to hold her dress up to keep it dry while she hopped across to the towel stand.

She caught the image of herself in the mirror with her make-up smudged, her hair barely contained in a messy ponytail, her underwear around her ankles and her skirt hiked up around her waist. It was so comical that she couldn't help giggling. So much for dignity.

Bella patted herself dry and straightened her underwear. She really didn't want to risk another mishap so she decided to try out the tub later and just used soap and a fresh wash cloth to clean her feet at the sink.

She hurried back into the bedroom to retrieve her toiletries bag, wondering how long Edward had been waiting. She didn't have time to fix her make-up so she grabbed another towel to scrub her face clean. Her skin was a bit raw and glowed with a pinkish blush when she was done, but it felt so much better. Her hair was a hopeless snarl and resisted her attempts to brush it out. Instead, she wrapped it into a messy bun on top of her head and stepped back to look herself over.

She still looked like a bit of a mess, but she no longer felt like an emotional train wreck. Her stomach growled reminding her that 'something better than cold cereal' awaited her at the other end of the apartment.

"There you are!" Edward greeted her with a grin when she got to the kitchen. Then he did a double take scanning her from her tousled hair and cosmetic-free face to her bare feet. His face froze and he swallowed visibly. She didn't know what to make of the expression that flitted across his face before he recovered himself and scooted an open beer bottle across the counter towards her. "Drink up and then come over here and help me decide what to cook."

Bella recognized the label on the bottle. It was one of Emmett's favorite micro-brews. "I didn't know they sold this on this side of the Rockies," she said as she raised it to her lips and took an appreciative swallow. Cold and hoppy with just a hint of honey, the beer slid soothingly down her throat. She hadn't realized how thirsty she was.

"What? Oh, yeah. A friend of mine from school lives in Seattle and occasionally sends me a case. We used to drink together and he would constantly complain about the lack of good beer on the east coast. He would begrudgingly drink one or two Heinekens and then switch to water. We all used to tease him about it, but then he started bringing back cases of this every time he went back to Seattle for breaks and got me hooked. I tried to get them to carry it at local shops, but their distribution is too limited."

"In that case, thanks for sharing with me. I'll have to send you more when I get back to Seattle."

"Is that where you were heading? What a coincidence. I was supposed to fly there tonight. Maybe we can hook up whenever my meeting gets rescheduled."

Bella felt her stomach flip when he said 'hook up'. It was perfectly innocent, but the column of nerves that ran from her belly button on down didn't think so. She took another gulp of ice-cold beer to drown the blush she felt rising up her neck.

"You said you are cooking something? What's on the menu?" Edward was standing before an enormous refrigerator with the left door held open. The freezer shelves were loaded with aluminum foil containers. "Holy crow! What is all this? Your mother must love you."

"Actually, this is all Jasper's doing. Cooking is a hobby to him. Of course, there are only two of us, so he usually freezes half of whatever recipe he tries and then we have easy leftovers and don't have to order food. I'm absolutely useless in the kitchen, but I can turn on the oven and set a timer. Oh, here's a good one. He made lasagna with garlic bread last week and it was amazing. How does that sound?"

"I love lasagna. What can I do to help?"

Edward pulled out the appropriate containers, turned on the oven and grinned at her. "Nothing. I've got it all under control. Unless you want another beer."

She was surprised to realize she had already finished the bottle in her hand. "Sure, that would be great."

Little alarm bells were going off in her head. Edward was too hot to be single, yet he didn't hesitate to invite a single woman back to his apartment. No man would do that while in a serious relationship. Unless. . . Bella found herself wondering about this Jasper guy. Roommate. . . or something more? What kind of guy would choose cooking as a hobby and stock the freezer with leftovers to make sure their roommate didn't have to subsist on take-out? And where was he anyway?

Bella climbed onto a bar stool by the high counter and crossed her ankles self-consciously. Edward seemed to be interested in her, but she was getting so many mixed signals from him and from inside her own head that she was thoroughly confused. "Where is your roommate anyway? Will he mind that you have a guest?" There, that was neutral enough.

"He's out of town right now. He's working on his doctorate and travels a lot for his research. It's too bad he isn't here right now. I think he would like you."

"What's he like?"

"Single, straight and handsome."

"Seriously? That's how you describe him when people ask?"

"Well, I thought those are the three things every woman wants to know about a guy she hasn't met."

"We aren't all that shallow. But if that's your impression of what women want, how would you describe yourself?"

"That's not fair. One of them is completely subjective."

"I'm going to ignore the fact that you are comfortable calling your roommate 'hot' but can't even describe yourself. You aren't very good at answering simple questions," Bella teased. She tried to lighten her tone so he wouldn't see how interested she was in his response.

"I said he was handsome, not hot, although I have heard women call him that. But fine. I'm single, straight, and willing to defer to your opinion of my appearance."

Bella pretended to assess him critically with her lips pursed and her head cocked to one side. Tousled bronze hair, piercing green eyes, aristocratic features, broad shoulders and chest, long, lean but muscular arms, hands wrapped gracefully around the beer he was raising to his smirking mouth. She shrugged with a nontal sound. "Meh. You're okay."

"In that case, so are you," he replied with a playful wink. "Although, since we're on this track, I would love to hear how you describe yourself."

"Straight, single," she was proud that her voice didn't crack when she said it, "and average. Brown hair, brown eyes, clutzy and shy but nice and approachable. For the most part." She tacked the disclaimer on the end, remembering the anger she had felt towards Mike, and later, the ATM. There was definitely the potential for rage and even hatred within her, but it wasn't her. Or at least not the dominant part of her.

"No. You're wrong. You are far from average." Something in his tone cut straight through her musings. Bella's eyes shot to his, shocked by the intensity of his stare. She felt her cheeks warm under his gaze and tried to escape it by taking another swig of beer. It was almost two thirds gone. She was grateful when the oven chimed to indicate it had finished preheating and he turned away to put the food in and set the timer.

"Come on. Let's put some music on while that cooks." Edward's tone had lost the edge and returned to the warm, playful sound she recognized from their first meeting. She followed him across the living room to check out his wall of music. From the floor to well over her head, the entire wall was covered with shelves of CDs. She couldn't count them but was sure they numbered in the thousands. "What are you into? Classical? Techno? Country? If you can think of it, we probably have it. Jasper and I are both compulsive when it comes to buying new music so our collection is pretty extensive."

"How are they organized? And how do you know whose is whose?"

"By genre and then by group. For the most part. Some things are harder to categorize than others. And it's pretty easy to tell them apart. For example, I would never buy Carly Simon, but Jasper would," he said, pulling out the case to show her. "He's in touch with his feminine side," he explained in a mock whisper.

Bella giggled. "Okay then, what about these?" She held up two identical CDs that sat side by side on the shelf. "His and hers?"

"Actually they're both mine. My mom and a friend from work both got me the same album for my birthday last year and I didn't want to return a gift. That's a really good band, actually. Have you heard of them?"

"Porcupine Tree? No. But they sound prickly."

"Okay, that was too lame to even deserve a response."

"Yeah. I know. I get the corny sense of humor from my dad."

"And do you get your looks from your mom, then?"

"Actually, yeah. I do. She had my eyes and my smile, but I get my hair and complete lack of coordination from my dad. She passed away almost seven years ago, but I still see her every time I look in the mirror." Bella had a lot of practice telling people about her mother's passing. She was accustomed to the upwelling of regret and loss, but few people gave her the empathetic response that Edward did. He reached across wordlessly and covered her hand with his own. They stood in silence for several heartbeats trading looks of sadness and understanding. Bella again sensed the calm warmth in her chest that she had first felt speaking to him at the airport. It was a feeling that softened her grief and cloaked it in healing acceptance.

Clearing her throat, she withdrew her hand and returned her attention to the case in his hand. "So. Porcupine Tree? What are they like? Are they a new group? I've never even heard of them."

"Think Pink Floyd but with a more modern rock vibe. They're good. They're a British band and they've been around since I was a kid, but they don't get a lot of attention in the States. They've got a great sound and aren't afraid of taking risks with their music. Do you want to try them?"

"Sure," she agreed enthusiastically.

Edward popped the CD into the multi-disc player and made some adjustments to the sound. The first chord jumped out strong yet mellow before fading, leaving her breathless and waiting for more. Edward settled himself cross-legged in the middle of the floor.

"What are you doing?" Bella asked.

"Listening. Here, pull up a bit of carpet and try it. Actually, it's better with the lights off." Edward jumped to his feet and crossed to a panel near the front door where he turned off all the lights except one strip of small spotlights above the kitchen counter.

Bella was impressed by the view before, but now the windows seemed to expand above and around her. She felt encapsulated by the water, sky and stars. The first song of the album was short, like a prelude, setting the tone for an energetic clash of drum hits and guitar riffs. Lying down on the carpet next to Edward, Bella felt the enormity of the world around and below her. As the second track began, driving arrows of charged sound through her head and heart, she pushed away the hurt and confusion, fear and anger of the day and just immersed herself in the music. She did not fall asleep, but she was no longer in the room. She was lost in a harmony and a heartbeat not her own.

She came back to herself to realize that the lights were on again and Edward was nudging her with his toe. The smell of tomato sauce, garlic and bubbling cheese ignited her appetite. Edward was grinning at her, holding out a hand to help her as she clambered awkwardly to her feet.

"Dinner is served."

For the third time tonight Bella was stunned into wordless awe. Edward might claim to be hopeless in the kitchen, but he had obviously been taught how to set a table. The lasagna sat in the center of the table, still bubbling and steaming. He had assembled a simple Caesar salad with shredded parmesan cheese and croutons, and cut up a loaf of perfectly browned garlic bread into rough chunks. Two freshly opened beers marked their spots and Bella eagerly sat down to eat.

"You're going to have to carry me back to bed because there is no way I'm leaving this table until I've eaten so much I can't walk."

"Anytime," he chuckled as he heaped an enormous portion onto each plate.

Bella alternated between forkfuls of the saucy entrée and bites of salad to cool her mouth. She burned her tongue and palate but didn't care, opting to douse the pain in more ice-cold beer.

"Hey. Slow down there, tiger. You don't need to inhale it. I'm not going to take it away."

"You have no idea how hungry I was. And this is insanely good. Does Jasper have a tip jar? He is an absolutely phenomenal chef!"

"I know. That's why I keep him," Edward joked and he, too, was shoveling enormous bites into his mouth.

Bella thought she probably looked like an animal and was acting too base to be attractive, but the warmth and humor she felt with Edward didn't allow for self consciousness. Conversation was non-existent through their first helping, but as the food built a comfortable knot of energy in her tummy, Bella slowed down and began to look around the apartment. She realized there were many details she missed in her initial distracted state. Now she saw the electric fireplace on the opposite wall from the entertainment center. The mantel piece above it held several framed photos. Above the mantel hung a mosaic of colored glass pieces suspended in a web of silver wire. The image was unclear at first, but then she was able to pick out the impression of a ship tossed about by waves of grey and blue glass.

Edward noticed the direction of her focus. "My mom made that. She sculpts sometimes, but her real passion is mosaics. She acts like a complete lunatic during yard sale season, scurrying around the suburbs collecting chipped pots and discarded plates and glassware. Somehow she makes gorgeous pieces out of garbage."

"It's incredible. You have to stare so long to really figure it out that you end up immersed in the image, like you are on the ship and about to be tossed overboard. She has incredible talent."

"Thanks, I'll tell her you said that. She doesn't enter her work in galleries or anything, so the compliment will mean a lot to her. They are mostly gifts for friends or clients. I fell in love with that one so she gave Mr. Bleddell, the conductor of the Chicago Symphony, a purple orchid made from glazed flower pot pieces instead."

"Lucky you. And now you're an architect. It sounds like artistic abilities run in the family."

Edward paused before answering. "I guess so. I prefer to draw. Buildings, or course. Sometimes I want to get away from the light table, rulers and calculator, or in most cases nowadays the computer, so I pull out a sketch pad and charcoal. It helps me stay in touch with the beauty of architecture so it's not just work. Seattle has some truly stunning buildings, especially the older houses on Capitol Hill and Queen Anne. Next time I'm there, if it isn't raining, I'll have to take a chair and easel outside and spend some time sketching."

"Put a hat out and you could earn a few bucks, too."

"Ha. Right."

Bella saw several framed sketched leaned up against the wall next to a table. The frames and style looked familiar. "Are those yours?" she asked as she got up to take a closer look.

"Yeah. They were part of a series I did for a local interior design firm. I tried to capture images of all the most recognizable buildings in the city, but those ones didn't turn out so well. I have no idea what to do with them."

"Can I take one? They're gorgeous!" Her heart had quickened. She knew exactly where she had seen these sketches – in the common area at Mike's apartment building. So many coincidences. . . What did it mean? She wanted to take something tangible with her so it would still feel real when she got home.

"Sure. And thanks. My ego likes you even more." He retrieved the duplicate Porcupine CD from the shelf. "And you can have this, too, if you like them."

"Thanks, Edward," she said, speaking his name shyly. His answering smile lit up his face.


	7. Ben, Jerry and Netflix

**A/N:** Where to begin? I'll start with an enormous apology to any and all returning readers. I never intended to take such a long break. My husband and son both required surgery earlier this year and that threw me for a loop. Then, trying to get back into these characters after months away posed a whole new set of challenges. Somewhere in my subconscious they just went ahead on with their lives and left me in the dust.

This story was originally outlined to be a medium length love story with a bit of angst thrown in the middle. Now it's kind of more than that. Actually, a lot more. So I'm adding this **Disclaimer: This story will contain scenes where the characters do questionable things. Yell at them, not me. And there will be talk of rape, suicide, murder, cheating and some other dark subjects, so if those are possible triggers for you, this story is not for you.**

New readers, welcome and thanks so much for choosing to read this fic!

Returning readers, I'm sorry for the long break. Thank you so much for choosing to give this fic a second chance!

* * *

With her hunger sated and the beginnings of a pleasant buzz softening her sense of sight and sound, Bella sank gratefully onto the black couch and tucked her bare feet under her skirt. Edward dropped loosely into the arm chair across from her with a loud belch and a sheepish apology.

"Please tell me to mind my own business if you'd rather not tell me, but I'm too curious not to ask. What exactly happened? Why did you need to change your travel plans at the last second like this?"

Bella fidgeted with the label on her beer bottle, carefully peeling it back with her thumb nail. How much should she tell him? It felt like such a pathetic cliché to reveal that she had walked in on her fiancé with another woman. She didn't want his pity. Her conscience had been eating at her since the lie at the airport, but her sense of self preservation was stronger. After a few moments of silent deliberation she decided what to say; hints of the truth without any outright falsehood. Funny, but it still felt dishonest.

"I don't want to get into a lot of detail. I guess I'm still in shock about the way things turned out. In a nutshell, my plans with an old friend from college fell through. Nothing was the way I remembered or expected it to be. It was obvious from the moment I arrived that I was unwanted and unwelcome. I figured that I didn't need their drama in my life. I just needed to go home."

"Well, if you'd just broken up with your boyfriend I would know exactly what to do. But when it comes to chick drama I'm completely lost."

"What the hell is chick drama?" Bella overplayed her reaction to hide how close to the mark he hit.

"You know, 'She made a move on my man.' Or 'That bitch called me fat behind my back.'"

"Oh my gosh, do you think all women are that shallow? You don't really believe that most people have less depth than the caricatures on day-time talk shows, do you?"

"Obviously not or else we wouldn't be sitting here chatting about our lives with stomachs full of lasagna and beer, would we?"

"Touché. But now I'm sort of curious, what would you do if I _had_ just gone through a messy break-up?"

"Everyone knows the cure-all for a broken heart. Ben &amp; Jerry's and a chick-flick."

"There you go with that 'chick' word again. Would you say that in front of your mother?"

"Actually, she calls women chicks, too. I picked it up from her. Her Wednesday Night bowling team is called 'Chicks with Heavy Balls'. No joke. Cross my heart and all that."

Bella couldn't breathe past the beer that was exploding up into her sinuses. "No fucking way. I totally want to meet your mom."

"Next time you're in town. She'd love you, no question."

He said 'next time' like it was a foregone conclusion. Bella found that simultaneously endearing and frightening. He seemed like somebody she could be friends with. Maybe more than friends. Actually, if she was being completely honest with herself, she wanted to be more than friends. She was drawn to him in a way she had never been attracted to a man before. Of course, she also knew there was no way she was ready to introduce one more variable into her fucked up life.

"Why don't we?"

"Huh?" Bella was shocked from her internal musings when Edward jumped to his feet.

"Ice cream and a movie."

"Uh. Okay?"

Edward crossed back to the freezer and started digging around on the top shelf. "Damn. I don't believe this! All we have is an almost empty tub of vanilla and it smells a little funky. I guess it's been a while since I had ice cream."

"No broken hearts and pity parties in your recent past?"

"Hah. Hardly. I work too much to be able to invest in a relationship."

"Yeah, I can relate." Bella could think of a dozen arguments she'd had with Mike about her devotion to her career. It was the only real disagreement they had ever had.

"Wait. I have an idea. I'll take care of the ice cream if you can pick out a movie."

"Okay. Sure. Where do you keep your DVDs?" Bella looked around the room. With so many thousands of music albums, she could only imagine how many movies two single guys could own.

"Oh, I don't buy movies, except for the classics, of course. That's what Netflix is for." Edward picked up a complicated looking remote and clicked several buttons. The huge television hummed to life and he brought up a movie menu for her to look through.

While Bella scrolled through the new releases and other available titles, most of which she had never heard of, she listened in to Edward's conversation on the phone in the kitchen.

"Hey, Heidi. It's Edward Masen. . . Yeah. . . Good, thanks. Hey, so I have a question. Where can I get a tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream at this time of night? . . . What flavor? I have no idea. A variety, I guess. . . Really? You're awesome. I owe you big time. Thanks. . . Okay. See you soon."

Bella was so distracted by the one-sided dialogue that she forgot to pay attention to the remote in her hand.

"The Avengers, huh?" Edward laughed as he sank onto the couch beside her. "That's not exactly a chick flick."

"It was the only one I recognized. I don't watch a lot of movies."

"That's cool. It's a great movie. Actually, all the interconnected Marvel movies and story lines are pretty incredible. There are a few inconsistencies, sure, but this has never been done before. They've taken all these actors, directors, writers and the source material and created an over-arching plot with unique character arcs and turned it into such a successful franchise. You've gotta give them credit, right?"

"Um. . . yes? I haven't really been following them, but I did see the second Iron Man movie. Or was it the first? I don't know for sure, but it was pretty cool."

"You're killing me. Seriously?"

"Sorry?"

"Don't worry. We'll get you caught up. Each of the movies has a stand-alone plot line but they have a lot of inter-crossing sub plots and references. There's an ideal order to watch them in, but you can start here. We'll get to work filling in the blanks tomorrow."

"Now I'm intimidated. It's just a movie, Edward."

"Uh, no. It's not. It's a multi-billion dollar franchise. I'll give you a pass this time because I feel for you in your state of ignorance. For now, though, enjoy the movie." He selected the film and hit play.

Bella shook her head with a bemused smile. He looked so young and earnest singing the praises of his comic book movies. The fact was the last thing she wanted to watch was somebody else's interpretation of eternal love. An action packed super-hero movie was a much better option. If nothing else, it would be a good distraction.

Fifteen minutes into the film, Bella was completely lost. She had a pretty good imagination, but the pace of the action and the way the picture jumped from scene to scene with so many different characters left her feeling overwhelmed. There was a sharp rap at the door which cut through the soundtrack. Edward paused the movie and got up, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

Bella stayed in her seat but craned her neck to see who was at the door. A beautiful, slender blond was talking with Edward. Bella could not understand what they were saying, but they were both laughing. The woman, Heidi presumably, handed over a brown paper grocery bag and Edward passed her several bills. Bella wasn't sure how she felt about getting ice cream delivered to your condominium in the middle of the night. It felt presumptuous. Was this how Edward lived every day? His whims catered to with a phone call and a wad of cash? He didn't seem arrogant or condescending. In fact, he was incredible polite and gentlemanly when he wasn't teasing her. And that Heidi woman seemed to like him, although anyone who looked like Edward was bound to have a flock of gorgeous women behind him. Bella realized that her thoughts were turning cynical and she didn't like the way that felt. Heidi was probably a very sweet, hard working woman. As if she could hear Bella's tangled thoughts, Heidi caught Bella's gaze with an ironic wink and a smirk.

Bella was mortified about being caught staring and eavesdropping and dropped her eyes to the bottle she still held in her hands. It was long-since empty and the label was mutilated by her constant fidgeting. She didn't look up again until she heard the door close. Edward set the grocery bag down on the counter in the kitchen and proceeded to unload four different tubs of ice cream plus chocolate syrup, whipped cream and cherries.

"You've gone from drowning your tears in a tub of ice cream to making full blown sundaes in the middle of the night. In December! I don't know about you, Edward."

"You know what they say, "Anything worth doing is worth doing right."

"Or anyone," Bella replied without thinking. Somehow her verbal filter had malfunctioned.

Edward met her surprised look with raised eyebrows and his signature smirk. "Hear hear." He moved quickly in the kitchen placing two enormous bowls, spoons and an ice cream scoop on the counter. Bella hesitantly joined him, he cheeks burning from her slip up.

"Wow. She got a variety alright. Can I have a bit of each? Somehow that feels gluttonous but they all look so good."

"It's your pity party. You can do whatever the hell you want."

They scooped generous helpings into their bowls, topped them with the syrup, cream and cherries, then Bella carried them back to the couch while Edward put the leftovers away. Bella was picking tentatively at her ice cream, exploring the different flavors when she felt Edward settle back down onto the couch next to her. He hit play and took the other bowl, digging in as if they hadn't just consumed an enormous dinner. Bella found herself marveling at his athletic build. She didn't struggle with her weight, but she still couldn't eat with such abandon. Especially not if she wanted to fit into the outfits Alice had packed for her. True, less fabric meant you could fit more outfits into a carry-on. But it also meant you could fit less Bella into those outfits.

Bella didn't realized she was ignoring the movie and picking at the chunks of brownie floating in her bowl of soupy, melting ice cream. Edward heard her sigh and paused the movie. The absence of yelling and explosions jolted her back to the present.

"What's going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing really. I think I'm just tired. It's been a really long day."

"So I've discovered another myth. Ben &amp; Jerry's don't heal all wounds after all. I think you were smiling more before the ice cream."

"That's not it. Really, Edward. It was delicious. I never would have dreamed up some of these flavor combinations, but they're really good. The truth is, today was really crazy. I guess I just need to sleep it off. I'm sorry to bail on you. Can I take a rain check?"

Bella bit her lip. She hadn't actually intended to add to this friendship or whatever it was. Edward had referred to 'next time' so casually before and now she found herself doing the same thing. It would be so easy to slip into a relationship with somebody like him. Effortless. Like falling. And that scared the shit out of her.

"Sure. Of course. I've already seen this movie four or five times anyway. Here, let me get that." Edward took her bowl and his own, which he had scraped clean, and carried them both to the kitchen. She followed behind, feeling odd to have somebody else waiting on her. He loaded the dishes into the dishwasher, wiped down the counter and hung the beige patterned towel across the faucet.

Bella tried not to stare at him while he worked, but his profile was beautiful and she couldn't help tracing his features with her eyes. He turned to face her, leaning back against the counter with both hands on the edge.

"Is there anything else I can get you? Please, feel free to grab whatever you want or need. I want you to be comfortable."

Bella smiled shyly. "I think I'm good. Thank you. You've been. . . really great. I mean that. You single handedly turned my day from craptastic to a lot of fun. I feel like a terrible guest because I'm so out of it right now. I think, once I get everything sorted out with my card and buy my ticket, I'll be able to relax. I'm just a bit pre-occupied."

"I don't blame you. And I'm really glad I was there. I'm expecting a thank you note from the ATM sometime tomorrow. Maybe flowers and a gift card. I did save its life, after all."

Bella giggled and was mortified to feel herself blushing again. She looked down in embarrassment, tracing the line between two tiles with her toe. "Well, I better get to bed. Thanks again, Edward."

She looked up slowly when his feet came into view directly in front of her. Edward drew her into a gentle hug. Bella was not one to share physical affection easily. Her shoulders were stiff, defensive. Hesitantly at first, she put her arms around him. Her forehead rested against his chest and she breathed in his scent. Warm. Comfortable. Safe.

She felt the weight of her anguish and loss gradually slip from her shoulders and she turned her head to rest her cheek against the place above his heart. His arms tightened infinitesimally. She felt her hair catching slightly against his whiskers as he rested his chin against the top of her head. She no longer felt shy or awkward.

"Sleep well, Bella. Give me a yell if you need anything."

She stepped back reluctantly, allowing her hands to glide down his back to his waist before she relinquished contact completely. "I will. G'night, Edward."

She felt his eyes on her as she walked back along the hallway to the guest room. She forced herself not to look back.


	8. Generational Differences

_A/N: Thank you for all the Follows and Favorites. I guess I didn't scare EVERYBODY away with that long break._

_And Margaret, I love your reviews. Thank you!_

* * *

Bella leaned back against the closed door. Lost didn't even begin to describe how she felt right now. Conflicting emotions swam through her mind like eels in a bucket, flipping and tumbling over one another leaving her dizzy and slightly nauseated. She went through the motions; flossing, brushing her teeth, then detangling and braiding her hair for bed. She peeled off the grey dress, slipped on the blue silk nightie Alice had picked out for her and fell face down onto the bed. As tired as she was, she couldn't get her mind to shut up and let her sleep. Eventually, she dragged the pillows and blankets off the bed and piled them up by one of the windows. She settled into her nest and watched the winking stars creep slowly across the night sky until exhaustion finally dragged her down into a restless slumber peppered with half-formed dreams and the bitter taste of regret.

Bella wasn't sure what brought her back to consciousness, but when she finally opened her eyes completely it was already light outside. The small clock on the bedside table said it was 8:19. Her head was pounding, her feet were freezing and her mouth tasted foul.

She hastily remade the bed before escaping to the bathroom to brush and scrub away the stale funk of traveling. Then, feeling only slightly guilty about using so much hot water, Bella filled the tub more than half way and slipped into the steaming depths with a sigh of relief. Somewhere from the other room she heard a piano playing. She didn't recognize the piece but it reminded her of Gershwin. Slow, heavy, a bit jazzy. She lay back until her hair fanned out around her and all she could hear was the whooshing of her own heartbeat. Every other sound was drowned by the water pressing against her eardrums.

Eventually the water cooled to the point where she could no longer justify lying there. She toweled off vigorously, wrapped her hair in another towel to get it out of the way and started digging through her suitcase. She gritted her teeth in frustration. Every item of underwear she had packed screamed sex. She hated push up bras. She viewed underwires as a necessary evil, but the excessive padding made her feel itchy, like her skin couldn't breathe. And the lace looked fragile and delicate but really scratched and chafed like sand paper. She hated Mike a little more for having wasted the money and discomfort on him. Hate was easier to cope with than the other emotions hammering for release.

Disgruntled but determined to make the best of it, she wedged her breasts into the plainest bra she'd brought, pulled on the matching panties and tried to decide what to wear. The most conservative outfit she packed was jeans and a creamy turtleneck sweater. At least it had looked conservative on the hanger. When pulled over a bra designed to make your breasts look like grapefruits it was less so.

Feeling uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed, Bella crept down the hall to grab her purse from the foyer. The piano was silent and she saw Edward in the kitchen standing at the counter with his back to her.

Bella pulled her phone out of her purse. 9 missed calls, 3 voicemails and 14 text messages. She was not ready to deal with her fucked up life yet. She held down the power button while she slipped it back into her purse. It was almost 10 o'clock here, almost 8 o'clock back in Forks. The credit union should be opening at any moment. Everyone else could wait.

"Hey, Edward. Good morning. Um, do you have a landline I could borrow? My cell phone drops calls a lot and I don't want this to be more complicated than necessary."

Edward turned around with a surprised but welcoming smile. "Good morning, gorgeous. Sure, no problem. Just dial 9 and then the number."

"What?"

"Just kidding. That's what the school nurse always used to say when I was faking being sick and wanted my parents to come and get me from school. I would call them but it never worked. They just told me to drink a glass of water, lie down for five minutes and then get back to class. Somehow, they always knew the difference between a real cough and a fake one." He mimicked a forlorn look and pathetic cough.

Bella couldn't help giggling. It was a good thing he only spoke to his parents over the phone. Nobody would have been able to say 'no' to those puppy dog eyes. "I'm sure it helped that your dad is a doctor."

"Yeah, he called 'bullshit' and then lectured me after school. Not in a mean way, just, you know, 'Be tough, you have responsibilities, too. Mom and I are here for you when you really need us, but we want you to stand firm on your own two feet.' The typical pep talk dads give their kindergarteners."

"5 going on 45?"

"Pretty much. And one day I'll give my son that same speech. Minus my normal foul language, of course."

"Of course. I bet you'd make a great dad." It was a small revelation within her own mind but she didn't question it. She could already tell that he was polite, playful, responsible and generous. They were all wonderful traits. But there was something more there, too. He paused when he saw she was completely serious.

"Yeah? Thanks. I think I would, too. Someday."

His smile was small and wistful, like he could see that future dream but didn't trust he would experience the reality. Bella felt her own lips curve up in sympathy. She could relate to the feeling of dreams hovering just out of reach. And the shock of them disintegrating completely without warning.

"Here's the phone. I, uh, I'm gonna make some coffee."

"Okay, that sounds wonderful. Thanks." She made herself smile with more enthusiasm than she really felt. Somehow, the lighthearted warmth they had shared last night seemed very distant at that moment.

Bella pulled her notepad, pen and debit card from her purse. She dialed the 1-800 number and waited through three rings before it was picked up.

"Hello and thanks for calling Forks Credit Union. How can I help you today?" The man's voice was a medley of cigarettes and warm Irish coffees.

"Um, hi. This is Isabella Swan. I have an account with-"

"Isabella! Little Bella! I don't believe it. I remember when your father brought you in with your purple piggy bank full of coins and ones and five dollar bills all neatly sorted and folded like so. $187 dollars, I think it was. And a few cents, besides. Your dad sure was proud of you. Still is, of course. Why, I saw him over by the gas station just the other day. He was telling me about your hotshot advertising boyfriend and all the great things you're doing up there in Seattle. Yep, he sure is proud of you, Bella."

"Oh. Hi, Mr. Birdsell. Thanks. Really, I-"

"And how many times have I told you to call me Birdie?"

"Sorry. Birdie. Um, why are you answering the phones?" Gary Birdsell was the president of the Pinochle Club, the Greener Gardens Club – as if that was a challenge in Forks – and the Credit Union. He was also almost 80 years old.

"Well, that's the funny thing. You know I like to keep my fingers in the pudding, so to speak, so I pop in every now and then. What do you know, but last week Dahlia Silvers, you remember her, right? She graduated a couple years ahead of you. Well, Dahlia Silvers went into labor, this is her third, mind you, so things came on all of a sudden and moved along pretty quick-like, and Betty is on vacation with Horace, they're taking their new RV down to San Francisco, so who was going to man the fort? I tell you, it sure is nice to be useful again. And there are so many new things going on in the banking world. Why, I remember when the boys down at the mill would stop in on Friday after work with their receipts to draw their pay and we'd hand them their cash nice and easy, hand to hand, right across the counter. Now we've got instant deposit and pass codes and software upgrades and what have you. It's really something, it is."

"Yeah it is. Um, is Dahlia doing okay?" Bella could hear water running in the kitchen, then Edward's voice, a gentle murmur, as he talked with someone on his cell phone.

"Sure, sure. 9 pounds 11 ounces. That baby's a big'un. Real cute, too."

Bella felt her uterus cringe. That didn't sound like a baby. More like a giant. "Oh, well, that's good. So I'm calling about-"

"Oh, I'm sorry. Here I am gabbing away while you're calling me to transact some business. Here, let me put my credit union president hat back on. There we go. A bit snug, but I think we're all set. So, Miss Swan. How can I help you this fine morning?" Bella stifled a sigh when he cut her off again and looked down at her bare feet as he rambled on. She didn't normally dish out the money for manicures and pedicures. The girl had done a really nice job. Her toes were. . . pretty. If you could use that word in association with feet. The color was a bit bright, maybe. A tad darker than crimson. A hint of purple in it. But it did look good against the cream colored carpet.

"Thanks, Mr. Birdsell-"

"Birdie."

"Sorry. Birdie. Um, I'm calling because my debit card was declined yesterday and I really need to be able to access my funds. Could you help me figure out what's going on?"

"Declined? Well, I'll be damned. Let me see. Let me see. Dahlia wrote down the password for me. Hmm. Where, oh where can my little password be? Oh where, oh where can it be?" Birdie warbled through the nursery rhyme tune as he shuffled through papers. Bella glanced up to see Edward watching her with a smirk on his face. She rolled her eyes and went back to examining her toes. Red was a good color. Bold. Sexy. She liked it.

"Aha. Here we go, here we go. It's this new software, you see? It's designed to stop identity robbers from using your money. I don't know how they do it, maybe like a skeleton key card or something. But they find a way. They sure do. And it looks like it's doing its job, alright. Some ruffian in Chicago, Illinois was trying to use your card to buy a plane ticket. Probably fleeing the country to Mexico or Hawaii or something. Those scoundrels don't think twice about-"

She cut him off before he could launch into a rant about the destruction of American morality, never mind that Hawaii was made part of the union more than fifty years ago. "Birdie, Birdie, wait! That was me! I tried to buy a plane ticket."

"You what? What are you doing in Chicago? Your dad said you were up in Seattle." He sounded a bit hurt that she had strayed so far away.

"I have friends out here." She glanced up again. Edward was holding up one finger then pointing to his own chest. "I'm visiting a friend out here," she corrected herself and Edward nodded, satisfied. Gosh, he was adorable with his hair all messed up, wearing just a plain white t-shirt and flannel pajama pants.

"Oh, that's right. Your fiancé lives out there, doesn't he?" Bella felt a stab in her gut. 'Not any more', she wanted to say. But not yet. She'd break the news to her dad before unleashing the small town rumor mill.

"Yeah, that's right. So, I was trying to reschedule a flight and my card was declined and the ATM wouldn't accept it. I got shut out completely."

"That's just too bad. I'm sorry. I really am. When the software caught what looked like _fraudulent activity_, that's what they call it, you know. When it saw fraudulent activity it froze your account to protect your funds. Like closing the castle gates, you know?"

"Yes I know. So, how do I unfreeze it? When can I use my card again?"

"It's fixed right now, sweetie. Just a click here and a click there, and kapow! Bob's your uncle!"

"Thanks so much, Mr. Birdsell. I really-"

"Birdie."

"Yes. Birdie. Thanks. I really appreciate it. I better run now, but you say hi to Dahlia and congratulations when you see her. I'll stop by myself next time I'm in town."

"That's good. That's real good. Thank you. Now let's see. What does this button do?"

"Don't!"

"Ha, ha. Don't worry. I'm not pushing any buttons. I'm just saving and exiting and there we go. All done. Oh, look! Here comes Jenny Tate and her grandson. I better get going. See you soon, okay?"

"Yes. I'll see you soon. Have a great day, Birdie. Goodbye." Bella hung up the phone and dropped her forehead on the table. _Thunk._ That felt good. She did it a few more times then rolled her head to one side to look up at Edward. "Stupid, stupid, stupid, old, adorable, old, sweet, old man."

"Birdie, huh?"

"He's the president of the credit union in my home town, and in charge of about a billion other clubs and committees. He's like 108 years old and takes his dentures out to slurp his milkshakes at the diner. He drives an Oldsmobile. An Oldsmobile! And he's the one playing around with the 'buttons' in my checking account. I'm scared."

Edward set a mug of black coffee on the table and collapsed into the chair next to her. "Can't live with him, can't shoot him?"

"Yeah, that pretty much sums it up. He says he fixed my card, though. I think I want to test it out."

"After breakf-" There was a knock at the door. "Ah. Breakfast. Perfect timing."

"You're having breakfast delivered, too?"

"Yep. And you're going to eat it. No complaints."

Edward opened the door to a dour looking man with grizzled mustache and a white apron.

"Mr. Masen," he greeted Edward with a nod.

"Gustaf. Thanks so much for bringing it up. Here you go," he handed over a few bills and took the large white paper sack. "These really smell amazing. Tell your wife 'hi' for me, okay?"

"Yes. Of course." The man nodded to Edward, eyed Bella curiously, nodded again and turned away while Edward shut the door.

The paper bag he set in front of her emitted such an incredible scent that her mouth began to water and her stomach growled in anticipation.

"Easy there. No need to snarl at me. There's plenty for everyone."

"Just shut up and feed me!"

"As you wish," he laughed. Edward bowed formally and opened the bag. When he pulled out two steaming hand-made quiches Bella almost jumped across the table. It was all she could do to sit still while he divided the portions between two plates. He had already put out a bowl of green grapes and a carafe of orange juice. She felt spoiled. Doted on. Breakfast with Edward left a feeling of glowing warmth inside her belly. Or maybe that was just the quiche.

* * *

_Has anyone else seen the commercial where two old ladies sit down in a restaurant? One orders a 'quickie' and the handsome waiter corrects her pronunciation. . . so she changes her order. Makes me laugh every time I think of it._


	9. Thin Ice

"That was better than good. If you keep feeding me like this I'm going to blow up like a balloon."

"Maybe that's my plan. I like my women soft and squishy."

"Eww," Bella cried slapping him on the shoulder. "As soon as I get my flight sorted out I'm going to walk about five miles to burn this off."

"I don't know if five miles will do it. These quiches are made with real butter, cream, cheese and eggs. They're probably about 1500 calories each."

Bella's eyes went wide and she looked down with horror at her empty plate. She had even dabbed up the flakes of crust because they were so good. She could feel her ass expanding by the second. Edward kicked back in his chair, laughing at her reaction.

"Chill out. Oh my goodness. We'll do something active if that will stop you freaking out. You should really see your expression right now."

She rolled her eyes and grinned at him. "Fine. But I can't eat like this anymore today. After dinner last night and breakfast this morning, not to mention the ice cream and beer, I won't be able to get my pants on tomorrow."

"Then don't," he replied with a leer. That earned him an exaggerated glare.

Bella helped him rinse the dishes and load them. He set the dishwasher going and offered her the phone again to call the airline.

They settled onto the couch. He pulled her feet into his lap and then started flipping through a magazine. She stiffened up at the familiarity of the gesture, but found herself relaxing a bit as he stroked the soles of her feet gently with his knuckles. Bella watched him reading for several seconds. He seemed content to sit with her just like that while she made her call. She wasn't entirely comfortable, but had to admit it did feel good.

Bella unfolded her itinerary in her lap and dialed the airline. She clicked through a dozen numbered prompts before being connected to the booking line. It was after 11 o'clock now and she had to wait on hold for several minutes. She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the couch cushions, allowing her feet to wiggle a little bit, encouraging Edward to stroke harder. She heard him chuckle gently. He set his magazine across her shins and began to massage her feet with both hands. She hummed her approval with a soft smile on her lips.

Finally there was a break in the hold music and Bella was able to speak to a real person. She explained what that she was looking for the earliest flight to Seattle. As luck would have it, they still had two seats available on the Thursday afternoon flight. Unfortunately, the price had gone up even higher. Bella consoled herself with the knowledge that she would make up for the expense quickly and gave them her card information. When they confirmed her purchase she kicked her feet and pumped her fist in victory. Knowing that her card actually worked, that Bernie had managed to fix it, took an enormous weight off her shoulders.

Edward grinned at her little victory dance then quickly reclaimed her feet, rolling each of her toes between his thumb and pointer finger, then rubbing his knuckles firmly along her arch.

"Mmmm. If you are trying to make me regret leaving tomorrow, it may actually be working."

"Maybe. You have cute feet. I'll play with them as long as you let me."

"Hah. Feet aren't cute. They're weird looking."

"Not your feet."

"Awww. Foot compliments. The sure-fire way to win a woman's heart."

"Would you rather I tell you you've got an awesome rack or a scrumptious, bumptious derriere?"

"You are so weird."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Bah!" She pulled her feet away, blushing furiously. Beneath the goofiness, she could tell that he really was complimenting her figure. The warm feeling from breakfast was now a flip-flopping swarm of butterflies.

"Now that I've got my flight arranged, I'm going to go for a walk. A long walk. Wouldn't want my derriere to get any more bumptious."

"I've got an even better idea. Can you hang out for 15 minutes while I get ready?"

"Sure."

Edward vaulted over the arm of the couch and disappeared down the hallway to his room. Bella walked to the fireplace and stood examining the storm-tossed ship mosaic. This close and with the morning light flooding the room, she could match the different fragments of glass and glazed ceramic. Edward's mother must have used pieces from more than fifty different sources to create the colorful, three dimensional effects of the ship, waves and stormy sky.

The minutes sped by as she stood, lost in the scene, feeling a kinship to the imaginary crew being tossed to and fro by the elemental rage of the storm. She sensed Edward standing next to her. He smelled different, fresh from the shower and wearing a light cologne. She smiled shyly at him. He was dressed for walking, too, in jeans, a turtle neck and mostly zipped black jacket.

"Ready to go?"

"Yep. Let me just grab my wallet and coat."

"Don't you need your purse?"

"What for? I'll just put my wallet in my coat pocket. Why carry one more thing?"

"You are frighteningly practical for a girl."

"And you're frighteningly chauvinistic for a human being."

"I've found that stereotypes often have roots in truth. While we're outside, you count how many women are carrying purses, and I'll count the ones who aren't."

"Whatever."

"Hmm. How old are you?"

"Okay, funny guy. Let's go."

Despite his teasing, Bella enjoyed his company. Or maybe because of it. She found herself clinging to their banter, trying to one up him, finding excuses to laugh and flirt in an effort to block out the constant hum of disappointment and betrayal that simmered behind all of her other thoughts.

They walked several blocks from the condominium without her really registering where they were going. When he opened a glass-paned door and motioned her inside she finally looked around. It was as cold inside as out and the air was full of sounds of laughter over the swish and scrape of metal blades cutting across ice.

"Oh no. What are we doing here?"

"Ice skating. Obviously."

"No, Edward this is a bad idea. Really bad. I'm known as a world-class klutz in my hometown for a reason. There's no possible way I'm going ice skating."

"The way I see it, you just told me everything I need to know. There's no way we're leaving without ice skating now. First of all, if you're as klutzy as you think you are, I'll look talented and graceful next to you. Secondly, it's reassuring to know I'll have something to laugh about for days after you leave. What size do you wear?" Bella helplessly tagged along behind him as he paid for their entrance and skate rentals.

"Seven. But I'm not doing this. You are absolutely horrible. What could possibly induce me to strap on skates and go out there now?"

"First of all, you lace them on. Strapping things on is probably best discussed some other time," he said with a comical grin while rapidly tying his laces. "Secondly, if you just grab a pair and come out there with me you'll have a kick-ass good time and work up an appetite for the best Mediterranean food on this side of the Atlantic Ocean."

Bella felt her cheeks flaming in response to his brash innuendos. "Grab a pair, huh?" she asked while casting a hesitant glance at the pair of size 7 skates he dropped on the bench next to her. "Do they have dolmades?"

"Do they have dolmades, she asks. Yes they do," he replied while crouching down to help her put on her skates. "They have dolmades and calamari and lamb stew and shish kabobs and pretty much anything else you could want. Plus a pretty incredible wine selection. Now stop being such a chicken and let's go."

With that, Edward pulled her to her feet and didn't let go of her hands until they had tottered over to the rink and stepped onto the ice. Bella felt like a new-born foal. Her ankles wobbled alarmingly, but Edward coaxed her through the step-push-glide motion until she was able to make her way around the outside of the rink without falling. They skated for almost an hour before taking a break to get drinks and use the restroom.

Bella was surprised at herself when she pulled Edward back on the ice. Once she had gotten over her initial fear, she actually found it was a lot of fun. There were other obvious beginners out there, too, plus several couples skating comfortably together.

Couples. . . there was a scary thought. Since she met Edward last night, Bella had viewed her unanticipated layover as a welcome escape from reality. She would be flying back to Seattle tomorrow afternoon. She didn't want him to start thinking of them as a couple. Or even possessing the potential for being a couple.

She had so much to figure out, not the least of which was announcing her broken engagement to her friends and father. Did Mike's mom already know? They had plans to celebrate Christmas all together at Mike's parent's house in Everett. She hoped she could find the nerve to tell her Dad before he got the call from somebody else. A cold weight settled on her shoulders. Her focus was shattered and she slipped, arms wind-milling wildly.

"Whoa, whoa. I've got you. Where'd you go? You were having a good time a minute ago and then you just zoned out on me."

"I'm sorry. I think I'm a bit tired. This is the most athletic thing I've done in the last two years."

"Well, if that's the case, make sure you consult your doctor before doing anything _really_ strenuous." He winked suggestively and Bella punched his shoulder. But he had at least managed to make her laugh.

They returned their skates and pulled their shoes back on. Bella was amazed she had escaped injury. Edward didn't let her fall once. However her legs and lower back were stiff and sore from the unaccustomed use. A walk back to the Mediterranean restaurant that Edward recommended was just what she needed to loosen up.

She was startled when they stepped outside and he took her hand, twining her fingers with his own. But she didn't pull away.


	10. Wine and Dine

Thanks to everyone who has chosen to follow/favorite this story!

* * *

Bella's teeth sank into a tender chunk of lamb. The tang of lemon and fresh herbs made her mouth water and she closed her lips around her fork to capture the juices that ran down the tines. Edward had remembered her complaint after breakfast and ordered much lighter fare for lunch; lamb shish kebobs, dolmades and a salad with creamy chunks of feta cheese and dark purplish-brown Kalamata olives. They ate slowly, washing each bite down with a robust and fruity sangiovese.

"Tell me about life in Seattle," Edward asked between bites.

"Tell me about life in Chicago," Bella replied with a playful smile.

Edward sat for several seconds with a look of concentration on his face before responding. "Well it's cold. And windy."

"Wow. I could have read that online. Or better yet, stepped back outside and felt it myself. I want you to tell me something unique to your life here in the windy city."

Edward laughed, swirling his wine in his glass, his fingers cupping the bowl gently and his wrist rotating in languid circles. "I've lived here my whole life. I don't really know what to say. People are louder, more brash here. It was definitely culture shock for me to go to graduate school on the east coast. There are more subtleties to conversation there. Here, you can be pretty confident that people will talk straight. If they think you stink they'll tell you. I'm not so good with innuendo."

"You could have fooled me," Bella teased.

"Different kind of innuendo. I don't hide my emotions well. I'm an open book for anyone who chooses to read me. That put me at a disadvantage over there. I felt walked on by my peers and my professors. Jasper is a great friend to have. He sees through people's posturing and translates for me."

"He sounds like a good friend."

"He's the best."

"You said he's doing research for his doctorate?"

"Yep. He double majored in business and psychology, received masters in both disciplines and now he's pursuing his doctorate in psychology."

"Holy crow! That is a lot of school. What is he planning to do with all those degrees? Wallpaper his bedroom?"

"Ha ha. No. We've already got it all worked out. He's going to be my right hand man. A business strategist with that amount of insight into the human mind will be invaluable during negotiations."

"I'm sorry, but I'm confused. How much time does a junior architect have at the negotiating table?"

"Not much. But I don't plan to be the lowly gopher forever."

"Aha. You're going to put your hard earned wages to work for you and start your own firm?"

"I have some money that my parents set aside for me. But yeah, I have plans for it. They aren't fully formed yet. My mom and dad have always encouraged me to plan big but start small. Maybe it comes from working with architecture and structural design, but I get how important it is to invest time in both research and planning so you can build the right kind of foundation, employ the best strategies and use the materials necessary to achieve the desired result." Edward's expression went from serious to playful. "I sound like a text book, don't I?"

"If my text books had looked and sounded like you, I would have been a 4.0 student." Bella was a bit surprised by her own words but she loved the pleased look and slight blush that colored Edward's cheeks. "Jasper sounds interesting. And those two areas of focus make a lot of sense. I can see how they would complement one another. In fact, some of the things you've told me about him remind me of my friend, Alice."

"Really? How so?"

"Well, for starters, she's an incredibly loyal friend. And she's intuitive. She'll be dancing around the fringes of a discussion or an argument and then pop in with the ideal solution that nobody else thought of yet. She sees patterns and follows them to their natural end. She's a school junkie, too. She's 26 years old, like me, but she's still in college. I think she's taking a page out of Jasper's playbook and collecting degrees. So far she has degrees in Art, Math, Finance and Interior Design. When I asked her how she could afford it she told me that when she was fourteen she took her pocket money and the money her mom and dad had set aside for her and started investing it. Under her dad's name, of course. Somehow she turned less than $4,000 into enough money to cover eight years of college tuition, pay off her parent's mortgage, and still take an international trip each summer. She's brilliant. Oh, and she designs all of her own clothes. Mine, too, for the most part."

"Sounds like a prodigy. I wonder what she was like as a kid."

"We met in middle school. Her parents adopted her when she was six and just bouncing around the foster system. Her mom was a social worker and could tell right away that Alice was different. She was non-verbal and people treated her like she was an idiot, but Tamara knew the moment she met her that wasn't true. When one of her foster families complained that she was scaring the other children by watching them too much Tamara and her husband chose to pursue adopting her themselves. From what they told me it took almost 18 months but they eventually were granted custody and took her home.

"Tamara and Cliff are total sweethearts. They tried for years to have a baby and Tamara was almost fifty when she met Alice so she knew she wasn't going to ever have kids. She's told the story of bringing Alice home for the first time more times than I can count. She cries every time. She says that when Alice walked up the front steps carrying her old brown backpack she stopped at the threshold, looked up at them and said, 'Thanks for choosing me. I would have chosen you if I thought they would let me.' Tamara says she couldn't speak for several minutes. It was documented in all her files that Alice had never said a single word and there she was speaking in complete sentences. They don't celebrate their birthdays, just the date her adoption became final."

Bella looked up from the chunk of feta she was chasing around her plate with her fork. Edward was watching her with a tear-filled smile that was an exact reflection of her own. "She does sound pretty incredible. I wonder how Jasper and Alice would react to one another if they ever met."

"I have no idea. It could be scary, though. Alice is kind of like a miniature tornado. She blasts through hobbies and men like they're tiny towns in the mid-west. Most of them don't know what hit them until she's already gone."

"Why do you think that is?"

"Who knows? She loves new. Most people can't hold her attention. She finds out everything there is to know about them, realizes there's nothing left to discover and loses interest. It's kind of hilarious but also sad to watch. These guys are picked up by an absolutely adorable, energetic girl. She wants to know everything about them. They are the center of her universe and they feel like the king of the world for a few weeks or months, if they're lucky, and then she tells them she's sorry but she's ready for something new. They walk away shell-shocked and confused because she got them, like she really understood them and reflected every one of their strengths and positive attributes back at them but still left. I ran into one of her exes a couple months ago at Pike Place Market. I was afraid he was going to be hurt or angry, but he's engaged to be married now and seemed really happy. He told me that dating Alice was an experience who could never regret but wasn't strong enough to take a second stab at it."

"I can see how that would change your perspective on dating. How does she react to your relationships?"

Bella felt instantly uncomfortable. They were skirting around quicksand and she felt completely unprepared. "Alice sees the good in everybody. Not everyone interests her enough to gain her attention, but I've never heard her say anything negative about anyone. She's been my best friend for almost 15 years and she's only ever been supportive of me and the people I choose to spend time with, romantically or otherwise. She's got such an eclectic mix of friends from her different classes and activities that I doubt she would ever judge me."

Bella picked up her water glass to hide her discomfort. The ice clinked against her teeth making them ache but she drained her glass before putting it down. She couldn't bring herself to meet Edward's gaze so she had no way of knowing what he thought about her answer. If he wanted to know if she was in a relationship, he would need to come out and ask her directly. She'd decide how to respond if and when he did. She felt the urge to twist her ring on her finger but it wasn't there. Her finger was bare. Her ring was still nestled deep in her coat pocket, a burning reminder of the truth. She wasn't in a relationship, but she wasn't free either. She was still wearing the marks of Mike's broken promise.

* * *

A/N: I recently discovered that I'm allergic to sulphates. I love sangiovese, but I can't drink most red wines. *sad face* It's good stuff, though! What's your favorite red?


	11. Comfort

Bella was subdued as they walked back to Edward's building. She kept her hands in her pockets and her shoulders hunched against the biting wind. Edward walked beside her, not talking but whistling quietly. The song sounded vaguely familiar.

"What are you whistling?"

"Hmm? "

"You were whistling a song just a second ago. I thought I recognized it."

"I was? Oh, yeah. I was. It's called "Stars". From Les Miserables."

Bella felt her stomach flip when he said the name of the musical. He only spoke two words in French but his mouth seemed to form the foreign sounds with a level of emotion and sensuality that he didn't use while speaking English.

"Oh. I thought so. One of the local community theaters performed it a few years ago. Alice and I went together. She was dating an actor at the time."

"Was it good?"

"Yeah. I enjoyed it. It's a very emotional play and I really loved the music but I don't go to the theater very often. I don't really have anything to compare it to." Bella caught herself slipping her ring on and off the tip of her finger and yanked her hands out of her pockets. Les Miserable was playing at the Cadillac Palace and she had desperately wanted to see a Broadway quality production of the play, but Mike hated musicals so she hadn't purchased tickets. Now that she was consciously thinking about it she saw the ad on a passing city bus and a flier posted in the window of a coffee shop as they walked by. No wonder Edward was whistling part of the soundtrack. Subliminal messages were everywhere.

"You know, it's still playing here in town. I can probably get some tickets for tonight if you're interested." Edward's voice trailed off. He was avoiding making eye-contact with her.

"I. . . really? Isn't it sold out?" How did he seem able to read her mind all the time?

"I have no idea, but it's worth a try, right?"

Bella nodded enthusiastically and grinned in anticipation. Hell yes it was worth a try. And if they couldn't get tickets, they could still fall back on their plans to continue the movie from last night. She felt warm all over. The wind no longer cut so deeply. She placed her hand in the crook of Edward's elbow and smiled up at him. It was hardly relevant what they did, she knew she would enjoy herself as long as he was there.

When they reached the condominium tower Rafael opened the door for them, greeting them both by name. Bella was struck by an unexpected surge of pleasure at being recognized and welcomed as Edward's guest. Her first impression of the building and his lifestyle had intimidated her. In less than a day that feeling had transformed into a sense of belonging.

When they stepped into the elevator Bella felt far more relaxed than she had the day before. There was just one thing bothering her. Her lips were itching and burning; telltale signs that her skin was not responding well to the difference in climate between Seattle's soggy weather and Chicago's dry, blistering cold. She chewed her bottom lip impatiently to numb the stinging sensation.

"Chapped lips?" Edward's expression was sympathetic.

"Yeah. They're so irritating."

"I think I have some Chapstick upstairs."

"That's okay. I have some in my purse."

"Aha! See? I told you so. If you had brought your purse with you then your lips would have been protected." Edward grinned triumphantly.

"I told you so? Seriously? Now who's acting childish?"

"You aren't one of those supremely proud people who can't bear to be wrong are you?"

"On the contrary, I'm wrong frequently. I just have enough class not to lord it over someone when I'm right. A gentleman would know that."

"I can be a gentleman." He actually looked genuinely hurt.

"This I would love to see."

Edward made a show of holding the elevator door open as she exited then hurried ahead to unlock his apartment and ushered her through that door, too.

"May I take your coat, ma'am?" His eyes twinkled but his expression was completely serious as her hung her coat by the door and knelt down to remove her shoes.

"Ugh. No. Not the feet again." Bella couldn't help herself. She burst out laughing at his antics. "Fine. I believe you know how to be a gentleman. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to put on some Chapstick before my lips combust."

"Right. And I better make some calls about those tickets."

Bella left her shoes by the door and took her purse back to the guest room. She dumped the contents of her bag out on her bed, popped the cap off the tube of lip balm and applied it with a relieved sigh. She smacked her lips together a few times and eyed the pile of flotsam on the bed with distaste. Her cell phone was sitting there looking completely innocuous but its existence held the weight of a threat. She gritted her teeth and turned it on, waiting impatiently for it to power up.

She clicked through the missed calls first. Several from Mike, two from Emmett, two from her office number so those must have been from Angela, one from her dad and one from Alice. She knew she had no choice but to listen to all her voicemails. Angela could have important questions about their current deals and she had no idea what Emmett needed. She would have to run the risk of hearing Mike's voice whether she liked it or not. Even so, she procrastinated as long as possible by reading through the almost 30 text messages that filled her alert screen.

Mike's mom had blitzed her phone with texts today. Bella sat on the edge of her bed and scrolled through the pictures and texts.

_-I know you were planning to wear your mother's wedding dress but I'm at a bridal expo with my sister and I can't believe how gorgeous these dresses are. Wish you were here!-_

What followed were almost a dozen photos of a fashion show with models dressed like brides. Some with veils, some without. Some traditional designs and some more daring. Several of the gowns took her breath away. She bit down viciously on her bottom lip to stop the sob that threatened to erupt from her throat. His mom had no idea. Bella's relationship with Mrs. Newton was not perfect - Mike's mom gushed too much for Bella to be truly comfortable around her - but she had stepped in and stepped up enthusiastically when they got engaged. As the only mom involved in the wedding plans she was both sympathetic and patient as Bella wrestled with her grief and confusion over facing this milestone without her own mother.

They weren't close yet, but Bella had been trying to open up. They spoke almost every week, not just about wedding plans, but about random stuff, too, like work and their men and what color the Newton's should paint the trim of their house in the spring. How was she going to react? Would she shun Bella? Or try to get them back together? Would she accept Mike's new girlfriend with the same smiling, gushing enthusiasm that she had shown Bella back in college?

With tears in her eyes, Bella deleted every one of the dresses, hesitating slightly before the last one, an ethereal ivory gown with a square neck line, wide, embroidered waistband and flowing skirt. It was simple. Classically beautiful. It was exactly what she would have chosen if she hadn't already decided to have her mother's dress altered to fit.

Bella wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands, wishing she could rewind to ten minutes ago. She had been laughing with Edward, goofing around and having a good time. Now she felt like absolute shit.

She had one text from Emmett asking her to call him and several random messages from Alice including a couple scolding her for having so much sexy time with Mike that she couldn't even reply to a simple text message. Two were links to Youtube videos. Bella saved those for later. She knew she would need something to laugh about after listening to her voicemails.

It was too late to turn back now. She needed to hear what Mike had to say for himself. If he had the guts to leave a message, that is.

"Oh shit," Bella muttered under her breath when she heard the first message. She should have known her lies would backfire. Angela had seen the blinking light on her office phone and checked her messages.

_"Hey, Bella. It's Angela. I hope everything is alright. I don't think you would get your office number mixed up with your friend's phone number, but I wasn't sure. So, call me. Let me know if you're okay. And please be safe."_

The next voicemail was also from Angela.

_"Hi Bella. It's me again. I want you to know that I haven't talked to anyone else about that voicemail. I saved it just in case, but I'm waiting to hear back from you before I do anything. Please call me as soon as you get this. Okay. Umm, I'll talk to you soon. Bye."_

Bella deleted them both and went on to see what Emmett had to say.

_"Bella, I'm sorry to call you on your vacation. Something came up and I won't be in the office for a few days. I'll tell you more when you get back from Chicago but I wanted to give you a heads up that I'm going to be leaning on you a lot in the coming months. So it's kind of a promotion and kind of a curse because you'll have to talk to me almost every day. Like I said, I'll tell you more next week. Have fun. Take care of yourself. Oh, and say hi to Mike for us. Later!"_

Bella had no idea what to make of that message. A promotion meant more work but also more pay, which was good. But she had no clue how to tell Emmett and Rose about Mike dumping her. They hadn't seen much of him since he moved to Chicago, but they had been on many double dates over the years. She dreaded the reactions of her friends; the sympathy, the outrage, the confusion, the questions. She wanted to run away. She wanted to scream. She wanted to go back to Mike's apartment and punch him in the face.

She had two more messages, one from her dad just checking in to say hi. The other was from Mike's mom confirming their plans for Christmas and apologizing for all the wedding dress pictures. There was nothing from Mike.

Bella shot off a text to Alice with a generic apology and a promise to call her when she got back to Seattle. She deleted everything from Mike's mom. The sooner she knew the truth, the better, but she wasn't going to hear it from Bella. She shot a text over to Emmett telling him she was excited about new challenges and asking him to give Rose a hug for her. She called her dad but he didn't pick up so she told him she loved and missed him and hung up. Looking at the clock she knew she couldn't procrastinate on calling Angela. If she waiting too long, her assistant might decide to get other people involved.

"Bella? Thank God. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I am. I'm so sorry for scaring you. It's a really long story and I'll tell you everything when I get home, but I wanted to reassure Edward, he's the guy I'm staying with, without bringing anyone else into this."

"Where's Mike?"

"That's part of the long story."

"Bella, what's going on? You're scaring me." Her normally bright voice was thick with worry.

"Nothing sinister. I promise. Mike and I had a bit of a falling out and I needed a place to stay. Edward was really generous and offered to let me crash at his place for a couple days."

"Wait a minute. Who is this Edward guy anyway?"

"Just a guy I ran into at the airport. I know that sounds bad, but he's been a real gentleman. He didn't want me to go anywhere without notifying somebody so that's why I called and left a message."

"For yourself?"

"Like I said. Long story. I'll tell you everything when I come in next Tuesday."

"I'm holding you to that. And if you aren't here at 8 am I'm sending SWAT over to storm that guy's apartment."

Bella burst out laughing at the mental image of uniformed and heavily armed police officers shuffling past Rafael and skidding across the marble-floored atrium. The picture was completely incongruous. If Edward was home he would probably invite them in and offer them breakfast.

"Thanks, Angela. I'll be flying back tomorrow afternoon but I'm still taking the rest of the weekend off. And if you could keep this just between us for now I would really appreciate it."

"I will. Please call me when you get home."

"Absolutely. Take care, Angela."

"You, too."

Bella hung up with a heavy heart. A bit of a falling out? More like a nuclear explosion. Telling Angela would be easier than anyone else. She barely knew Mike and was a calm, non-judgmental person anyway. It would be good practice for the more difficult conversations.

She powered down her phone to keep any further intrusions at bay. She still had the evening with Edward to look forward to. She knew she was flying back into a shit storm in Seattle and didn't want to dwell on it.

Bella used the bathroom and ran a brush through her hair. Her face was surprisingly devoid of emotion considering the feelings that those calls and texts had stirred up. She shook out her hair and practiced her smile in the mirror. It looked forced but she couldn't help that. What she needed was Edward to make her smile. She went out to the living room to look for him.

"Hey! Good news!"

"They still had tickets?" Bella gasped in disbelief.

"Actually, my mom and dad have season tickets but chose not to go because they saw Les Mis in New York a couple years ago. My mom's already called the box office. We just need to show up and claim our tickets."

Bella stopped in her tracks. "Wait a minute. Your parents gave us their tickets?"

"Well sure. They weren't going to use them. And the show only runs through this weekend anyway."

"Edward, no. That's too much!"

"Why waste 'em?"

"I don't. . . what about. . . they don't even know me!"

"Don't worry. I vouched for you," he said with a laugh. Bella collapsed onto the couch, shaken. "Hey, hey, hey." Edward rushed over and kneeled on the floor beside her. "What's the matter? We don't have to go if you don't want to. If you want time alone or want to stay here and hang out, or if you want to go out for dinner it's okay. Whatever you want to do is totally fine by me. No pressure."

Bella couldn't stop the tears that forced their way out. It was too much. He was too perfect. She was completely overwhelmed by the tumult of emotions pulling her one way and then the other, tearing her apart from the inside. She was shaking her head, speechless and overwhelmed.

"Shh, shh, shh. It's okay. It's okay. I'm sorry. It's okay," Edward spoke in a soothing voice with one hand on her knee and the other rubbing her trembling shoulder.

With a cry halfway between despair and longing, Bella flung her arms about his neck and burst out crying. Scalding tears that seemed to burn with the heat of her rage and the fire of her torment poured down her face and into the soft cotton of his t-shirt. She slipped awkwardly from the couch into his arms and he rocked her gently, whispering words of comfort and kindness into her neck until her tears finally subsided and she curled up, hiccupping brokenly in his protective embrace.

* * *

_A/N: Favorite musical? I'm undecided. For me it's more about the production quality than the play itself._


	12. Confused

Sorry for the delay. This is a shorter update because my computer crashed multiple times on me yesterday. Grrr.

* * *

"Hey, are you okay? Bella?"

"I don't know what to say." Her voice was muffled against his shoulder.

"You could tell me why you're crying. It wasn't exactly the reaction I was expecting."

"Oh, God. I'm such a mess. I'm so sorry Edward. You're just so perfect! Where did you come from?"

"I'm happy to tell you my entire life story, but first we need to move. I've lost all feeling in my legs and feet."

"It's your own fault for feeding me so much. I wasn't this heavy 24 hours ago." Bella found herself laughing despite everything. Her throat was raw and her eyes were swollen and burning, but she still felt herself responding to his cheerful nature. She slipped off Edward's lap and they sat on the floor with their backs against the couch. He clasped her right hand between his larger hands, gently stroking her fingers. It was relaxing and she closed her eyes, tilting her head back against the sofa.

"I'm not perfect. I'm just a guy who saw a girl who needed help and then realized she was pretty incredible. I like you Bella. A lot. And I know I've probably come on pretty strong, but you're leaving tomorrow and I don't want to waste a single second that I have with you. I'm flying blind here. I don't know where this all could lead me, but I can't imagine feeling this way. . . the way I have since the first moment I saw you. . . and not giving this a chance. Can you?"

"I don't know. I'm really sorry. I'm kind of overwhelmed. No, not by you," Bella hurried on when she saw the contrite look falling over his features. "It's just everything this week has been so unexpected. Yesterday was horrible. And then you stepped in like the mythical knight in shining armor to save the damsel in distress. But you are the furthest thing from a cliché that I've ever seen. This is coming out all jumbled. I'm sorry. I love how I feel when I'm with you. I love how you make me laugh. I have no idea what tomorrow will bring, either. Neither of us planned on this happening."

"Do you always plan out everything in your life?"

"No. Well, maybe. I'm not very spontaneous."

"But you seem to have fun with the unexpected. When you aren't over thinking it, that is."

"You've noticed that about me, huh?"

"Oh, Bella. I've noticed a lot of things about you." Bella opened her eyes a crack and looked over at him. His voice was playful again and his eyes were dragging slowly over her breasts.

"They don't really look like this. It's my bra. Alice took me shopping. I hate it."

"Alice knows what she's doing."

"Condoning the creation of these torture devices? Right."

"Oh, but what sweet, sweet torture," he chuckled. "Of course if it's that bad, you can always take it off." Bella jabbed her elbow into his side and he rolled away from her laughing. "You may have a bumptious derriere, but your elbows are bony, woman!"

"So not helping yourself," she retorted, diving after him and tickling his sides. He squirmed and tried to grab her hands but she evaded him. Her emotions felt almost schizophrenic, careening from the darkest depths to the highest heights and every place in between. Her eyes still burned from her crying jag and her nose felt drippy and itchy. Her laughter weaved between giddiness and hysteria. She threw off the shroud of confusion and self-pity that was smothering her and clutched at the threads of attraction and exhilaration that tied her to Edward.

In his desperation, Edward wrapped one leg around hers and twisted his body, flipping her onto her back and pinning her to the floor. She didn't give up her assault, squirming beneath him to try to reach the sensitive spots along his underarms and ribs.

"I. . . ow. . . stop! Ha, I've got you!" He pressed the full length of his body against hers, her wrists in his hands and his chest squashing her breasts between them. She giggled and he growled, his hair mussed and his eyes flashing. He was breathing hard with exertion, his exhalations mingling with her shallow gasps. "You don't fight fair."

"I wasn't aware this was a fight."

"Hmmm. I don't think it is. . ."

Bella's eyes darted back and forth between his, entranced by the dark, smoky green depths. His gaze was intense while his lips still twitched on the verge of a smile. The space between them seemed to disappear. She felt a tugging within her stomach, a yearning to move against him fluid and slow. To part her knees and draw him closer, deeper. She swallowed, no longer possessed by the manic hilarity of a few minutes prior. Her wrists were beginning to hurt where he held them pinned against her hips. The weight of his chest and shoulder were forcing the air from her lungs and she was beginning to feel dizzy. He was frozen, seemingly trapped in his own internal debate. She heard him swallow heavily. Watched his eyes slip down to her lips and back up. She licked her own lips in response, ready, waiting, hoping.

They balanced on the thinnest cord, poised to tip and plunge but still hesitating. Bella felt that she could leap and pull him down with her in a heartbeat. All she needed to do was lift her head the barest inch. His mouth was so close. Or shift her hips against his. Tell him she wanted this. Wanted him. Needed him.

But she couldn't.

She twisted her wrists from his slackening grasp, pulling sideways with her hands. He let her go, releasing her in the same moment that air and sight and sound returned. He was still smiling but his eyes held confusion as he clambered to his feet and offered her a hand up. Confusion and desire.


	13. No Strings

Here's the second half of the chapter I planned to post earlier this week. My computer is having serious issues so I apologize if my update schedule is erratic. I would REALLY love for a new computer to show up on my doorstep. Ha ha. Maybe Santa will be nice to me this year.

Thank you, Fran, for the FB rec!

* * *

Bella stood with her hands in her back pockets, looking at the floor. Seeing the attraction she felt for Edward reflected back at her was disconcerting. She had wanted him to kiss her so badly. Why hadn't he? And why hadn't she taken the lead when she sensed his hesitation?

She heard him in the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cabinet and filling it from the dispenser at the fridge. She toed the carpet, sweeping the fibers one way and then the other, tracing a spiral pattern and wiping it away.

"Can I get you a drink or something?"

Bella looked up, startled by the amount of space between them, both physical and emotional. They had been so close seconds ago. She shook her head. She felt her eyes prickling again. She held her breath and bit her lip, wishing her body would settle. Edward's eyes held hers as he raised the glass to his lips. He tipped it back, gulping the water, draining it completely without pausing for air. He set the glass down and it sounded loud to her, the slap and clatter of two hard surfaces colliding.

"I don't want you to feel forced or pressured in any way. You don't have to hang out with me. I offered you a safe place to sleep, no strings attached. I hope you know that."

"I do."

"Okay. That's good, because I meant what I said earlier. Every bit of it. But I don't want you to feel obligated. Don't worry about me or my feelings or whatever. I just need you to tell me honestly what _you_ want and how _you_ feel."

"I appreciate that. And I was being honest with you." Her conscious twisted. She had omitted so much that the presence of an actual lie would hardly be out of place. "I can't believe how much I enjoy your company. I've never felt so immediately comfortable and safe with anyone before in my whole life. And I can't remember the last time I've laughed so much."

"Yeah?" His gaze, so hard and unreadable moments before, softened.

"Yeah." She nodded and smiled shyly.

"That's good. I feel the same way. Almost word for word."

"Almost?"

"Well, I don't feel safe with you. Not at all. I feel like I'm standing in an airplane with the door open and no parachute. It scares the hell out of me, but at the same time I don't think I've ever felt so alive."

Bella swallowed. She could feel her heart hammering in her chest. She knew what he was talking about - that sensation of flying through the air, untethered and exhilarated, adrenaline surging, setting every nerve alight with the anticipation of plummeting off the edge into a limitless void. That was exactly how she felt with his body over hers. Be she hadn't jumped. And neither had he.

"You seemed really excited about seeing the show tonight. That is, you were excited until you found out how I got the tickets. If you aren't comfortable accepting them, I understand. Just tell me, okay? You should know, though, I would really, really, like to take you out tonight."

Bella blushed beneath his gaze and looked back down at the floor. Her feet had shuffled the carpet into a scrambled blur of crushed and overlapping fibers. "I think I would like that. Please tell them 'thank you' for me." She looked up again to see his lips spread into a wide grin.

"Great. The curtain goes up at 7. That gives us about an hour and a half to get ready before we have to walk over there to claim our tickets. It's only a few blocks, is that okay?"

"That sounds wonderful. I'll be ready to go in an hour or so."

"Okay. Great. "

Bella cast a glance over her shoulder as she left the room. Edward was looking down pensively. His smile had faded. His lips were pressed into a tight flat line as he twisted the glass in his hand back and forth against the counter top.


	14. Painted Bold

Back in the guestroom, Bella emptied her suitcase onto the bed. She had packed one other dress and pumps to go with it, but they were hardly appropriate for walking several blocks in the freezing cold. The next dressiest thing she had was a pair of gray slacks. The high-waisted pants hugged her hips and thighs before dropping straight down to rest below her ankles. Her square-toed black shoes with the shiny patina and chunky heels would look great with them.

Next, she slipped her arms into a white blouse that was one of Alice's own creations. It was carefree and playful. The front was asymmetric with a lacy ruffle running from the right collar to her waist. The sleeves were a little long and loose, flaring slightly at the wrist. She fastened each mother-of-pearl button and shook her hands to settle the sleeves around her wrists. Then she tied the braided draw string and fluffed the layered fabric so it rested evenly on her hips.

She took her make-up kit back into the bathroom and stopped in her tracks. Her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed, her skin was blotchy from crying and her hair was an absolute nightmare. She splashed water on her face, pressing her cold fingers against her eyes to calm the swelling. Bella worked the tangles out of her hair with a comb and brush until it hung over her shoulders in long auburn-tinged brown waves. She put her brush down on the counter and frowned at her reflection. She looked young. A bit lost. Girly and innocent. She looked vulnerable and she hated it.

Bella patted her skin dry and got to work. She painted on the emotions she longed to see in her reflection. Moisturizer and a creamy foundation became a layer of calm self assurance. She dusted cheerful energy onto her cheekbones and outlined her lips with bold sensuality. Then came the black liner, thick mascara, and warm tones of gold and bronze shadow. The eyes gazing back at her afterwards were direct and self assured. Alluring. She stepped back and smiled. Her confusion and heartbreak were hidden from sight. She looked happy. Daring. Desirable.

She pursed her lips for a moment. Grab a pair, huh? So she did. Bella unbuttoned her blouse, released the clasp of her bra and tossed it on the floor. She rebuttoned her shirt quickly before she could change her mind. She was blushing in earnest when she looked at herself again. There was nothing innocent or vulnerable about her image now. Her nipples showed faintly through the fabric, her breasts outlined by the light, flowing material. She retied the draw string a little tighter than before, feeling the fabric sliding smoothly across her naked skin. It felt risqué but delicious.

Bella ran the brush through her hair one more time then bent over, sweeping all of her hair forward. She only knew one up-do. Her mom had taught her before a relative's wedding when she was a teenager. Bella French-braided her hair from the nape of her neck to her crown then stood up, gathering all of the strands into a messy bundle. With a couple rubber bands and a handful of bobby pins she managed to fix it securely in place. Taking in her whole look, she was impressed. Alice would be overjoyed to see her stepping out of her comfort zone. She no longer looked like the straight-laced, young professional she was on the inside. Now she looked sophisticated but haphazard. Like she was her own boss, out to live her life and wasn't about to let anyone step on her.

She still had half an hour. Bella set to work painting her nails to match her toes. She didn't want to be natural pink any more. She refused to be mistaken for the placid Stepford model, intent on making her man look good just in case they ran into somebody from his company. She kicked that future to the curb when she left Mike's apartment. She wanted Edward to be surprised when he saw her and look her over with that sexy smirk of his. She wanted to make him proud to have her beside him tonight, just as she was. She wanted him to want her. To need her. To dare to take her. She had already sent enough confusing messages. She was done with that. She was declaring herself interested. More than interested. Willing, able and ready.

Mike could go fuck himself for all she cared.

Bella paced about the bedroom, fanning her hands to help the polish dry more quickly. After ten minutes they were hard enough for her to risk using her hands. She carefully refolded her clothes and repacked her suitcase leaving one outfit out to wear on Thursday. When her room looked presentable again, she put on a black shawl-like shrug and checked her reflection in the mirror one more time. She was more than satisfied. She flicked the lights off and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

She gasped in surprise when she ran up against a solid mass.

"Whoa. Sorry. Wow, I don't think I would recognize you if I saw you on the street. Your hair looks, just wow."

"Wow yourself." Bella looked Edward up and down. He had showered again and combed his hair so it lay neatly against his scalp. He was wearing a suit in a color she couldn't even describe, a shade trapped somewhere between gray and mocha, with a weave so smooth and tight it practically shimmered beneath the hall light. His shirt was the color of fresh cream. The collar hung open and she watched his Adam's apple bob as he swallowed. He had a black overcoat over his right arm and his left hand hovered next to her elbow, ready to steady her.

They walked down the hallway together, trading surreptitious glances. When his eyes met hers and his lip quirked up, shivers crawled from her scalp down her spine. He was inhumanly beautiful. And the way he looked at her. . . she felt so blisteringly hot. It overwhelmed her and made her want to forget the show and throw herself at him. She bit down on her lip and looked away. She was afraid her naked desire would scare him away.

Bella grabbed her coat from the rack by the door and thanked him when he helped her into it. She checked to make sure her wallet was still there and zipped the pocket shut.

"All set?"

"Yeah. I think so."

"We'll be a bit early. Hopefully we'll beat the crowds and we can grab a drink before the show starts."

"That would be wonderful. I'm not hungry but a glass of wine would be really nice."

The elevator felt smaller than before. Or maybe it was Edward who loomed larger. His presence was both intoxicating and intimidating. Bella couldn't believe how aware she was of him. Every breath, every swallow, every shift of his feet. He checked the time on his watch and she blinked. She rarely saw men wearing watches anymore. They all seemed to check their phones for the time. The piece was exquisite. Edward saw her looking and held his wrist closer for her examination.

"It was my father's."

"It's so beautiful. But masculine. I never thought much about male jewelry, but that is truly gorgeous."

"Thanks. I only really wear it on special occasions. My mother gave it to my father when they got married."

Special occasions only? Bella was both flattered and humbled. It was a gesture intended to go unnoticed, but it seemed to indicate his level of interest. Or maybe he just dressed up for the theater and this was part of the costume. She wasn't wearing any special jewelry. That thought seemed to light a fire in her pocket. Her ring burned like a brand even through four layers of fabric. She shifted uncomfortably, wishing the sensation would dissipate. The door finally opened and she thankfully drew in a lungful of the colder air.

Rafael wasn't on duty but the doorman still greeted Edward by name and wished them a good night. Bella took Edward's arm when he offered it as they stepped out into the cool evening air. They walked quickly, more to stay warm than because they were in any sort of hurry. Bella asked questions about the different buildings they passed, wondering which of the structures Edward had deemed worth drawing. He pointed out some of his favorites, but he insisted that viewing them at night with the glare of the city lights around them didn't do them justice.

They reached the theater faster than she expected and only had to wait a few minutes before it was their turn at the ticket window. Once inside, Bella gratefully turned her coat over to the attendant at the coat room, just keeping her wallet and looping the strap around her wrist like a clutch.

"I can hold that for you."

"It's okay, I've got it."

"You're going to hold your wallet all night? I understand your desire to eschew the hassle of carrying a purse, but now you're defeating the purpose. I've got a pocket right here," he said, patting his jacket.

"Fine."

Edward rolled his eyes as he slipped her wallet into his inner pocket. "No need to say thank you."

"Thank you," she said with a begrudging smile.

"You hate being wrong."

"Duh. Who likes it?"

"I guess that depends. I like being wrong sometimes. Well, I don't really like it. But I like learning. And sometimes it's entertaining to be wrong when you want the other person to be right."

"You're not making any sense."

"Probably not. Can I buy you a drink?"

Bella shook her head and laughed. "A glass of Reisling or maybe a Rosé would be delicious, if they have it."

Bella followed Edward to a station where a bartender was serving drinks to several other early arrivals. Bella had to bite her tongue when she saw the prices for a single glass of wine. She was used to buying entire bottles for that much money. She resolved to sip and savor her wine. She intended to get her money's worth, well, Edward's money's worth, out of it.

They wandered the halls of the theater, sharing their impressions of the decorations and artwork at first then laughing more and more as their attention shifted to the other patrons. They started a game, trying to guess what kind of car people drove based on their age, gender, style and over-all appearance.

"This isn't fair. You know so much more about cars than I do. I don't even know what a Dodge Dart is!"

"It was a sedan introduced in the 60s. Solid, reliable and often used as taxis."

"That guy is. . ."

"Solid, reliable, and she's just along for the ride."

"That's awful!"

Edward shrugged. "Just calling it how I see it."

"So what kind of car would you guess for me?" Bella stopped walking and looked him straight in the eye, daring him to pick something cute and girly like a Volkswagen Beetle.

"This is a tough one. A few come to mind but I'm afraid to say them out loud."

"Really? Why?"

"I have no idea how you would take it. I could ruin this night before it even starts."

"Try me," she said.

Edward's face showed a flurry of emotions. Amusement, thoughtfulness, and she was almost certain, arousal.

"I could say the Jeep Wrangler. Adaptable and daring, but I don't know if you like getting dirty." He looked at her with a sideways grin as she blushed brilliantly. "Or maybe the Mini Cooper. With racing stripes. You're witty and fun and have far more personality that most people."

Bella laughed and shook her head. "Somehow I feel like you've got one more up your sleeve."

"Perceptive. Fine. And this isn't really what I think you drive. You're far too sensible. But it's what you should be driving. . . A convertible Corvette."

Bella was perplexed. A sports car was the last thing she expected him to name. "You're gonna have to explain that one."

Edward grabbed her hand and pulled her gently towards him, leaning down to whisper in her ear. "Even when you're standing still, I can't take my eyes off you. Your beauty, your curves, your personality, your attitude. . . they're captivating." His right hand crept up to her elbow and his other hand rested on her hip. She stepped closer still. She was in his personal space now. Or he was in hers.

Bella found herself whispering, too. "But why a convertible?"

"Because I bet you're twice as much fun with the top down."

Bella's fingers clutched at his lapels when her knees threatened to give way. His breath, warm and moist against her bare neck made her want to melt into him. She swallowed shakily and looked up into his eyes. They blazed with a desire so intense it threatened to swallow her whole. Her lips trembled as she sucked in air to fight the dizziness that engulfed her.

With the slightest pressure of his hands he pulled her closer still. He lowered his lips to hers and her entire body hummed with the vibration, the energy, the absolute thrilling intensity of his taste and touch. The universe disappeared and all that remained was the singularity that was his mouth against hers. Heaven. Hell. Eternity. Bliss.


	15. Act 1

One of my other stories, Resurfacing, has been nominated for a spot in the Top 10 completed fics for the month of October over at TwiFanfictionRecs. There are 25 nominees and some really great fics. Hop on over, read some awesome stories and cast your vote before November 30th!

Thanks to everyone who has rec'd, reviewed, or just read and enjoyed this story. It's great having you on board!

* * *

Time seemed to stand still. A rapturous fog settled over her senses, muffling her hearing and stealing her equilibrium. Bella leaned into Edward, feeling completely unsettled but thrilled beyond comprehension as his arms slid around her waist and upper back, crushing her to him. The seconds floated past unnoticed. She felt as if they had stepped outside time itself. Edward's tongue brushed against her upper lip, enticing, electric, asking for more. She parted her lips, sucking air hungrily into her burning lungs, gasping as his tongue dove between her lips to tangle with hers. She had never been kissed like that, never been so consumed.

Beneath the euphoria that shimmered across her body, Bella's mind continued to work slowly, made sluggish and distracted by the sensations his touch elicited. Why had it never felt like this with Mike? She had loved him. She chose him. But she had never lost herself to him.

In Edward's embrace she was terrified but exhilarated, balanced on a silken thread, hanging high above a vast abyss. She felt her stomach clench in anticipation. She wanted to plummet into the depths, to tumble and fall into Edwards waiting arms. With his body so strong and sure against hers, and the taste and scent of him invading every part of her, she knew he would catch her. He wouldn't let her crash to the ground.

A bell chimed, pulling her mind unwillingly back to their surroundings. Edward relaxed his arms the slightest bit allowing them both to breathe again. The lights about them dimmed and then brightened. Dazed as she was, Bella knew it was more than her oxygen starved vision wavering.

"Can I help you find your seats, Sir, Ma'am?" an usher asked, his tone both warm and amused.

Bella looked over at him in surprise. Edward was marginally faster in recovering his voice. "Actually, I know where to go. Thanks."

Bella cursed inwardly as her cheeks flamed in embarrassment. She had never kissed Mike in public or at least nothing more than a quick peck on the lips. She couldn't believe how easily they had gotten carried away. Edward led her toward the auditorium. He squeezed her hand and grinned down at her, his steps light and him eyes shining with mirth. Bella was not so relaxed about it.

"Oh my gosh, did you hear him? He was practically laughing at us!"

"Really? I thought he seemed a bit jealous," Edward replied.

"Shut up. I'm dying here. I can't believe I got caught making out in the middle of a public place. And where did everybody go? The lobby was packed a couple seconds ago."

"Yeah. That was weird. It was almost too crowded to move and now it's a ghost town." Edward's expression reflected his puzzlement as he looked behind them at the deserted hallway and landing.

Another usher was just closing the double doors to the first tier seats as they slipped through. Edward guided her unerringly to a pair of empty seats in the third row of the central section. Bella apologized softly to the two couples they had to step over. It wasn't until they were seated that she realized how close they were to the stage. There were muffled sounds rising from the pit in front of them as musicians shuffled their sheet music and adjusted their chairs and stands.

Bella turned her head from side to side taking in the thousands of faces around and behind them, men and women in couples like her and Edward, still settling in for the show. Here and there were more youthful faces; teenagers with their parents and a handful of younger children. Around their seats a majority of the audience were older, very well dressed and made up. Going to the theater was still a formal event for them. She felt a bit self-conscious in her slacks when she saw that the middle-aged woman beside her was wearing sequins and pearls.

Edward produced a program from his jacket pocket and opened it between them. They looked over the pictures and biographies of the cast together. Bella was struck by the otherworldly beauty of the actors. How was it that some people were dealt a hand of good looks, talent and the other critical ingredients for fame and success while others had to make the most out of motley and mismatched cards? Looking at Edward, he would fit right in with the Broadway stars. His face was so warm and animated, and so incredibly gorgeous that she found it hard to look away.

"What?" he asked, his smile small and quizzical.

"I was just thinking how you beautiful you are."

"Men aren't beautiful," he said, embarrassed by her frank compliment.

"Oh, so you can compare me to a sports car but I can't call you beautiful?"

"It's not the same thing at all. You are beautiful. I'm just a guy."

"You should listen to her, young man. She's telling you the truth." They were both startled by the interruption. Bella laughed spontaneously as Edward blushed brilliantly and shifted in his seat. He rubbed his hands against his thighs as if he wanted to get up and flee but was forcing himself to stay put. The older woman and her husband who sat beside them laughed along with Bella. "I'm Gretchen, by the way, and this is my husband, Geoff."

"You'll have to excuse her. She doesn't know how to mind her own business," the man said.

"And why shouldn't it be my business? She was speaking the truth and he obviously needed to hear it. Look at them. It wasn't so long ago that I had to bully you into accepting an honest compliment. Men. Ha! They don't change." Gertrude nudged Bella conspiratorially and giggled, sounding much younger than she looked. She wasn't a beautiful woman, but her features were striking. Bella could tell immediately that she had a strong character and confidence to spare.

Geoff shook his head as if it was a battle he didn't see himself winning. "She knows what she's talking about, of course. Men don't change. . . until women make us."

Edward finally got over his shock and embarrassment and laughed along with them. "She's already changed me. More than she knows." He put his arm around Bella's shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze. Bella caught her lower lip between her teeth to control the wide smile that bloomed at his words. She sheepishly looked back at the older couple. Gretchen shot her an amused look and winked playfully at them.

The orchestra began tuning in earnest then, drowning out further conversation. The lights dimmed until they could barely see each other anymore. As her vision faded, Bella felt a growing vibration, like the subtle hum of a bee hive swarming up her spine and buzzing in the base of her skull. Change. . . it was happening. Inside of her heart. In her mind. In the charged and crackling air between them. She leaned into his chest and his hand slid down to squeeze her upper arm. The armrest was digging into her ribs but she wanted to be closer, to nuzzle into his embrace, to climb into his lap and be completely surrounded by him. Bella clenched her hands into tight fists in her lap, trying desperately to control the wild urge to touch him back.

The pit was quiet again. A preternatural stillness descended over the audience. It hung over them oppressively, the silence an almost palpable force. Several spotlights came on, illuminating the curtain. Bella hadn't taken notice before, but it wasn't dark red velvet like she expected. It was threadbare, stained and patched, pieced together from scraps of sheets and blankets in mottled shades of red, black and gray. A rough and heavy beat began, swimming up from the pit as the orchestra tolled out the first grim beats of the opening song. Bella sat forward expectantly, her hands wringing together fitfully as the ponderous notes coursed through her.

Edward brought his arm back around and joined his hands with hers. She held her breath as the curtain swung open slowly revealing a gang of prisoners, bound and staggering beneath the weight of their toil. Bella gasped, feeling their misery and despair washing over her like the tide. Inexorable and relentless, they dragged themselves through their labor and she felt herself being pulled from her seat into the heart of their song.

She glanced at Edward in panic. Did he feel it too? He caught her wide-eyed gaze in the dim light and smiled reassuringly. Bella sat back slightly, forcing herself to relax alongside him. The emotions rolling off the stage were so raw, distilled and concentrated into a force that left her sweating and shaking beneath the onslaught. The experience was nothing like her former foray into live theater. Was this production really that different or was it something altered within her? Their voices were clearer, the orchestra more adept, but the score was the same. The scenes, the script, they did not differ greatly from what she remembered.

Perhaps it _was_ her. Her emotions had been flayed and she sat exposed and vulnerable, drowning in the torrent of sights and sounds; rebelling against the injustice of Jean Valjean's incarceration and abuse, heart throbbing painfully with disillusionment and despair as Fauntine sacrificed everything within her power to save her child, recoiling in disgust from the grotesque antics of the innkeeper and his wife, captivated by the pure and spontaneous beauty of Marius' and Cosette's duet and aching in her core over the pitiable truth of Eponine's heartbreak. By the time the intermission arrived, Bella was exhausted and jittery.

"Are you okay?" Edward asked as the curtain swung closed and the auditorium lights came on.

"Yeah. I'm fine. I'm just a bit overwhelmed, I guess. They're so good! I've never been so close to the stage, either. Alice and I were up in the nosebleed section of a tiny theater when I saw this back home. The experience is completely different."

"It is a bit overwhelming, especially right on top of the orchestra like this. But this is also a phenomenal cast. You can tell when everything clicks because the audience comes alive and the performance takes on a life of its own. The cast feels it too and it makes them even better. I've chatted with a couple performers before, including some who have done movie work as well as live performances. They say that a live performance that really clicks is better than ecstasy or heroine. I don't have a basis for comparison myself, but I get what they mean. It transports you to another place. It's powerful and a bit frightening, but also addictive."

Bella clung to Edward as they walked, shuffling up the aisle behind hundreds or other audience members. She was starting to regain her balance but she was still shaken by the raw power of the experience. She was almost dreading the second half, knowing the tragedy and heartbreak that was coming. When Edward pulled her into a line at the concession stand she went willingly. He stood behind her with his arms folded across her belly. They inched forward slowly.

"Do you want another glass of wine? Or champagne?"

"Just water. But a snack would be great."

"They have cookies." Edward craned his neck a bit to see the display case over the crowd. "And it looks like some sort of pastry."

"A cookie. What are you getting?"

"I'll get a beer. All those guys swilling ale on the stage made me thirsty."

Bella snickered. "I bet they wish those tankards actually had beer in them."

"If they did I doubt it would be Stella Artois."

"Is that what they're selling here?"

"Yeah. It's six bucks a beer, too. Supply and demand can go suck my. . ."

"Edward!"

"My wallet! Suck my wallet dry. What did you think I was going to say?"

Bella elbowed his stomach roughly. There was a buzz of laughter and muttered agreement from the crowd around them. But there were also a couple kids in line and their mom glared at Edward. Their dad, on the other hand, looked like he was struggling to keep a straight face as he counted cash out of his wallet to cover his wife's champagne and his son's and daughter's apple juice and cookies.

Several minutes later they took their snacks and drinks over to a small open space near the theater doors. Bella leaned against the wall and lifted her feet one at a time, flexing and extending her toes to loosen her calves. She was feeling the stiffness from their skating excursion earlier. With her eyes closed and her head tilted back against the wall, she stretched her muscles a bit at a time, willing them to relax.

"I have a question."

"Hmm? What's that?" she asked absently.

"Why aren't you wearing a bra?"

Bella's eyes popped open and she looked down at her chest. Her black shrug still covered her shoulders, upper arms and chest. "What are you talking about?"

She looked around furtively. Nobody seemed to be listening but she couldn't resist the impulse to fold her arms across her chest. Unfortunately, the movement drew Edward's gaze. She felt her nipples tighten reflexively and goose bumps raced across her skin. She barely suppressed the echoing shiver.

With his half empty bottle of beer dangling carelessly from his fingertips Edward stepped closer to her and leaned one shoulder against the wall beside her. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."

"It was uncomfortable."

"Yeah?" Edward's eyelids lowered until his green eyes looked almost black beneath the shadows of his lashes.

"It was itchy. I couldn't breathe right."

"I like the way you feel without it." He used his empty hand to trace her face from her cheekbone to her chin. His fingers paused for a second before he continued to run them down her neck, across her shoulder and then down her ribs. He stepped away from the wall and turned until he was facing her, one hand holding his beer and bracing his weight against the wall, the other creeping around behind her until his fingertips were pressed against her spine and his thumb ran slowly up and down her ribs. It tickled in a way that made her want to squirm into him, not away.

Bella's mouth went dry. She hadn't been prepared for the first kiss. She didn't have the chance to be nervous or scared or worried. Now all of those feelings cascaded over her at once and she swallowed against the arid lump in her throat. Edward's eyes were on hers but they occasionally darted down to her lips.

"Edward, I. . ."

"Yes?" he asked, stepping closer, his shadow engulfing her smaller figure.

"Could I get some more water? Please?"

He pursed his lips and smiled, his eyes playful but glittering dangerously. "I'll be right back." But before he turned to go he bent down and kissed her, his lips brushing feather-soft across the tip of her nose. He walked away then taking all of the oxygen with him. Bella slumped against the wall, sore muscles and chaotic emotions forgotten. She felt like a coward. Next time, she wouldn't back down. She wouldn't hesitate. Next time she would have the guts to kiss him.

* * *

_Do you remember your first kiss with your significant other? I sure do. I had no clue what I was doing and he teased me about it for years afterwards. We're still married 15 years later so it can't have been THAT bad. . . right?_


	16. Act II

_Sorry I missed last week's update. Sick kids, doctor appointments, and. . . well, stuff. You know._

* * *

When Edward returned with her water Bella had slightly better control over her emotions. She accepted the cup gratefully with both hands and drained it quickly.

"I should probably use the restroom before the second act starts. Should I meet you back here?"

"I better go, too. Beer and sitting for more than an hour is probably a bad idea. You'll find me waiting outside the women's restroom with about 30 or 40 other men."

"You're so full of it."

"What? Truth and wisdom?"

"Not really what I was thinking." Bella was smiling to herself when she entered the ladies room. Her reflection in the vanity mirrors looked vibrant and happy. Finally, her reflection didn't feel like a lie. She liked that Edward made her feel beautiful. That he wanted her. She couldn't stop smiling if she tried.

A few minutes later, Bella exited the bathroom to find Edward, as promised, standing casually against the wall and making small talk with several other well dressed men. They were all laughing and seemed at ease but he didn't hesitate to say goodbye to them when he saw her. With hands joined they returned to their seats and chatted with Gretchen and Geoff as the other patrons filtered back through the doors and reclaimed their seats.

The second act began rather quickly. Bella was nervous that she would lose herself again, but the intermission seemed to have broken the spell. The music and singing were still phenomenal. The plight of the characters was still gut-wrenchingly emotional. However, the almost physical force that seemed to be pulling her from her seat was no longer in front of her. Now it was sitting right beside her. She was caught in the tide, not even certain that she could still swim for the shore and reach safe, solid emotional ground. The only alternative was to allow this sweet, sexy, generous man to drag her out into the vast and untamed ocean. As terrifying as it seemed, she trusted him.

Edward and Bella's joined hands rested on his right thigh. She could sense the tension and the strength in him, in his rigid muscles and the way his jaw was clenched. With each heartbeat, she felt a tug within her, part of herself being drawn out and dragged under by an emotional undertow that threatened to engulf her. The sensation was terrifying but thrilling. She felt so alive, like every nerve was vibrating at a high frequency. Her eyes continued to drift over to watch Edward's profile. His gazed was fixed on the actors but she knew he was as conscious of her presence as she was of his. His fingers twitched against hers.

As the action on the stage escalated, her own tension grew. She felt hot, stifled and sweating, restless in the confines of her chair. Impatiently, she released his hand and unwrapped the shrug from around her shoulders, balling it in her lap. A hoarse, choking sound came from the seat beside her. Bella looked up into Edward's eyes. His gaze darted back and forth between her eyes and her chest. Spot lights in white, yellow and blue reflected from the set pieces, highlighting the dusky blush of her nipples, now clearly visible through the thin white blouse. Their eyes locked for several protracted heartbeats.

A crash of cymbals snapped Bella from her trance and she faced forward again, fingers buried in the sweater in her lap, clenched and twisting against the soft woolen fibers. The remaining scenes were torture to endure. Bella tried her hardest to keep her eyes on the stage, but her head kept turning against her will. Twice, Edward's eyes met hers and her stomach contracted painfully. Her desire for him was so intense it hurt; a burning thirst that only he could quench. As the final scenes unfolded Bella found herself becoming more and more distanced from the drama on the stage. The only rhythm she wanted to feel was the beat of his body driving into hers. The only song she wanted to hear was the breathless sighs and cries of their joining.

The voices of the cast rang out the final chord, a triumphant exhalation of torment, sacrifice, passion and completion. The lights dimmed and the curtains swung shut. Bella gathered her shrug against her chest with one hand and captured Edward's hand with the other. The crowd stood en masse, applauding the performance with cheers and screams and clapping. With rushed goodbyes to Gretchen and Geoff, Edward and Bella squeezed from the row and raced up the aisle. They were the first to leave.

They traded neither words nor looks as they reclaimed their coats and bundled up to face the cold walk back to Edward's condo. Bella noticed that her hands were shaking as she buttoned her coat. She unzipped her pockets and shoved her hands into their depths, squeezing them into fists to still the tremors, but they only traveled up her arms into her chest.

They walked along the sidewalk briskly an arm's length apart. Bella could feel him at her side, his presence like a gravitational sink. She focused all of her attention on walking in a straight line, fighting the urge to allow their paths to converge and intertwine. When they reached his building, the doorman greeted them cheerfully. Bella's face was stiff and her smile felt wooden. Edward's voice sounded muffled as he thanked the doorman and ushered her through before him, his fingers barely brushing her lower back but setting the flesh alight all the same.

Bella stumbled when she stepped into the elevator. Edward's hand darted out to catch her, but even after she found her footing he didn't let go. He punched in the PIN that allowed them access to the top floor then turned her to face him. Bella looked over his shoulder to watch the lighted numbers track their progress. Edward brought his mouth to her ear, placing a feather soft kiss against her hair. She braced her hands against his chest, feeling his heart pounding through shirt, jacket and coat, feeling the muscles of his chest quiver beneath her fingertips. She tilted her head to the right, inviting him closer. His lips outlined her ear, sending shivers through her body.

The numbers climbed higher. His mouth moved lower. She felt and heard him inhale, drawing her scent into his lungs. His tongue glided down the shell of her ear, gently pulling her earlobe between his lips. She held her breath when she felt his teeth close tenderly over her flesh. Her fingers flexed against his chest and her knees wobbled. He was supporting her weight with his hands beneath her elbows. She leaned in closer.

The elevator slowed then stopped abruptly and they both lurched as their balance shifted. Edward walked backwards through the doors, guiding her blindly. His mouth continued to explore her face, lips climbing one kiss at a time up her hairline and then down the bridge of her nose. Then his mouth was on hers, his tongue forcing its way between her lips, while he opened the door and pulled her inside.

Their feet became tangled and they walked, stumbled, fell into the apartment. Bella's fingers found strength enough to unbutton his coat and pull it from his shoulders. She shook her arms free of her own coat, kicking it away from herself as it tried to snare her feet. Edward's hands were on her hips, steadying her at first, then sliding up beneath her shirt to press against naked skin.

The sensation of being pulled in was stronger than ever. She felt as if she was drowning, suffocating, unable to get enough oxygen. She pulled away from his kisses to suck air into her burning lungs. His eyes were wide, green irises burning. His nostrils flared and his mouth gaped. His breathing was as heavy as hers. They paused like that, eye lashes quivering and fingers trembling before they came together again, crashing against one another. Bella realized in that moment that he was as helpless as her to fight this draw, this force that was consuming her.

Bella's hands worked at the knot of his tie while he buried his fingers in her hair, pulling pins free until her hair cascaded around her face in a tangled swirl. He groaned and she felt it sink into her chest, a desperate cry of longing. His knees buckled and he fell onto the couch, pulling her against him. They undressed in a frenzy, shoes thumping to the floor, pants and socks being dragged off and tossed away.

Within seconds, Bella was wearing only her blouse and underwear, the silky fabric slipping between their chests as she straddled him, writhing shamelessly against him. He cupped her butt with both hands, his fingers flexing in time to her movements, his hips rising to meet her as she rubbed against his arousal.

Bella had one hand on his shoulder and the other tangled in his hair. She could hear the sounds she was making; gasps and whimpers, soft cries of pleasure urging him to take her higher, take her to that place of beautiful oblivion. The fabric of her panties was so wet she could feel the coarser cotton of his underwear chafing against her flesh. Her voice rose in pitch, and she pulled back slightly, her eyes wide open as her orgasm crashed through her.

Edward's eyes were staring, desperate and hungry. His mouth was hanging open, lips glistening with their mixed saliva. His breaths came in shallow pants. Bella shuddered and then melted against him, all of the strength draining from her back and thighs. His hands slid up from her hips to her shoulders, holding her against his chest while her body trembled. She heard him swallow thickly and she felt his dick flexing hard and eager beneath her. She buried her face in his neck, tasting his sweat and the intoxicating scent of his skin.

She mimicked his earlier action, flicking her tongue out to wrap around his earlobe, sucking the soft flesh between her lips and licking, teasing. He groaned again then held his breath, his body becoming unnaturally still. Bella felt her strength returning. With it came a desire to see him come apart as she had just done. Naked and fragile and beautiful.

She continued to lick and nibble at his ear and neck and jaw. She wrapped her hands around his upper arms, pressing the pads of her fingers against his rigid triceps, stroking her thumbs up and down his biceps. She rocked her hips experimentally against his and he cried out, the sound a blend of pleasure and pain too intense for words. She slid against him slowly, gliding her sex back and forth against him. As swollen and sensitive as she was, she could feel everything. The pulsing heat, the ridge of the head as it bumped firmly against her clit, his growing need to thrust and claim and own her body. There was a voice within her core that answered that call, that begged to be claimed and possessed and conquered.

Bella looked down at Edward. His eyes were clenched shut. His lower jaw jutted out and his chest heaved as he tried to control himself. She wanted him to let go. To lose himself in her. She wanted to experience the power of complete submission. It was a need she had never felt before and she was intoxicated by the idea.

She lifted herself a couple inches and paused. She hovered there for several moments until he finally opened his eyes looking lost and overwhelmed and sexier than any man she had ever seen.

"You're shaking," she whispered. The words felt foreign on her tongue.

"So are you." His voice quaked and his fingers twitched against her bare back.

"Why are you shaking?"

"I guess I'm nervous. Excited. I don't know. You feel so good."

"So do you. So good I want to scream or cry or, I don't know, just burst into flames."

"Please don't cry. It scares the shit out of me," Edward confessed with a breathy chuckle.

"Mmm," she hummed against his lips. "No crying. But maybe screaming."

"Oh God," he moaned, his hips moving haltingly against hers. His dick was pressing hard against her, lined up against her entrance. She ground against him, feeling the slick heat of her earlier release saturating her underwear, soaking the layers of fabric that separated them.

"Do you have a condom?" she asked between kisses.

"What?" He looked confused.

"A condom."

"Oh. Oh, shit. I don't think. . . Well, if I do it's probably expired." He sounded as dazed as he looked, his eyes unfocused and his eyelids flickering.

"Seriously? They have a shelf life of like five years!"

"Um, yeah. I know. . ."

"Oh. Well, that's okay. I have some in my suitcase."

"You do? Okay. . ."

"Come on," Bella said, easing off of him. She grabbed his hand and pulled him from the couch. He stumbled forward, bewildered and uncoordinated for the first several steps before a look of determination came over him. By the time they reached her room, he was pulling her.

* * *

_A/N: So yeah. There they go. I should warn you, the next 2 or 3 chapters are pretty much sex, sex and more sex. With some talking in between._


	17. The Main Event

_Rated M for Mmmmmmm. Kids, go back to bed, shut your eyes and plug your ears. Now._

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Edward pulled Bella into the guest room and kissed her again, not even bothering to turn on the light or shut the door. Moonlight seeped through the sheer curtains and a wide band of light shined from the hallway through the open door, illuminating the platform bed like a stage. Bella sank onto the mattress, letting Edward lift her blouse up and off.

He stood between her parted knees bending down to claim her mouth again as he dropped his underwear. Bella ran her hands around his naked hips to his back, taking pleasure in the contrast of baby-soft skin and coarse hair, shivering when her fingertips encountered the columns of muscle in his lower back. The power of his body intimidated her but also turned her on. She instinctively knew that he could overpower her in an instant, yet he touched her so tenderly, so gently.

Nudging him to the left, Bella guided him to sit down beside her and broke away from his kiss. She walked across the room, conscious of his eyes on her, allowing her hips to sway more than normal. She lowered herself to her knees and opened her suitcase, easily finding the unopened box of condoms by touch alone. She felt the slightest twinge of conscience when she remembered purchasing them. They were intended for Mike, for a week of romance and reconnecting. She lost her grip on the zipper twice before she managed to close up the compartment. She chided herself silently for the whispers of guilt that disrupted her focus on the here and now. They were just condoms. They didn't have a name or a purpose beyond the obvious. The seal on the box wasn't even open yet. Besides, she was free to be with whomever she chose. Mike might have made the decision for them both but she was embracing it.

Bella rose to her feet and turned, holding the box behind her and smirking as Edward's eyes jumped back and forth between her face and breasts. Her nipples tingled and her mouth ran dry as she approached him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed leaning back, his weight on his elbows, his knees parted and his dick standing rigid and thick before her. She dropped to her knees between his feet and popped the box open. She tore off the first foil square from the strip and handed it to him, resting her hands on his knees and watching him carefully roll it on.

His hands were shaking more than ever. He was a dichotomy images; powerful but afraid, ready to take her but hesitant to act. The conflict delighted her. Mike had always been so predictable. He was calm and straight forward but very placid when she stopped to think about it. She used to love that about him. It had comforted her.

She didn't want comfort now.

She curled her fingers and ran her nails up Edward's quads then splayed her fingers against his stomach, pushing him back until he was lying flat with his knees bent and feet on the floor. Bella stood and hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties, inching them down and wiggling her hips a little until they fell to the floor. She climbed up onto the bed, straddling him, allowing her hair to brush across his forehead and cheeks. He gripped the covers and held his breath, eyes glued to her face as she lowered herself slowly onto his length.

Edward's voice was a strangled gasp. "I want you."

"You have me," she whispered then covered his mouth with her own. He swallowed her kisses hungrily.

Bella shifted her weight from side to side, feeling how completely he filled her. Already she sensed a trembling heat in her belly. She had one hand on his chest tracking the rhythm of his heart. Her other hand pressed hard against her belly feeling the evidence of his desire pushing back against her palm. Edward dropped his head back against the mattress with a groan, his throat clenching spasmodically and the tendons standing out taut in his neck and shoulders. Bella watched his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw clamp down as he struggled to control his body's response to her.

Frissons of energy spiraled out from her center, filling her body with the urge to tense and rock faster. She matched her pace to his pounding heartbeat, accelerating and keening softly as the molten knot loosened and unfurled within her. _So close_, she thought, chasing down the promised release. She was so very close she could _taste_ it.

Edward suddenly arched beneath her, his hands locking down almost painfully on her hips, his head thrown back and his mouth stretched wide in a guttural cry. Bella was so surprised she froze, her hands planted on his stomach where his abdominal muscles bulged, hard and shaking.

Edward gasped and his eyes shot open, his entire body twitching and quaking beneath her. "Oh, God. I'm. . . I. . . just a minute. . ."

Bella obediently slid off him, confused and shocked as he disappeared into the bathroom and shut the door behind him. She looked around the room and then back down at the bed. The covers were yanked and twisted out of place so she straightened them then stood for several minutes watching the bathroom door. She heard the toilet flush, water running and then silence.

Bella sat in the center of the bed, knees drawn to her chest, waiting. Her body still felt too hot. The nerves in her skin were still tingling, picking up every subtle shift in the air and the press of the fabric beneath her butt and feet. Her center still throbbed with every beat of her heart, the blood in her veins refusing to slow.

As the silence and stillness dragged on she eventually lay back, playing back through the evening from the way he pulled her against him in the elevator to the sound and feel of him surging beneath her, desperate and hard inside her body.

She cupped her left breast with one hand, running her thumb back and forth across her nipple. _What was he doing? What was he thinking? Was he embarrassed? Ashamed? Regretting this? _With a pensive sigh she lowered her other hand between her thighs, feeling how slick and smooth her skin was. She stroked around the outside of her opening, humming as the soft hairs laid down and sprang back beneath her fingertips, the tiny vibrations heating her skin until the entire area ached and quivered. Her body missed him. Already she felt like he belonged there. Inside of her.

She closed her eyes and swallowed back the saliva that pooled in her mouth. She slid her middle finger inside, stroking along the walls of her vagina, drifting back to the sensation of him first entering her. Her breathing was loud in her ears as she drew her knees up and apart, rocking her hips slightly with the heel of her hand pressed firmly against her clit.

Bella could feel the heated tide rising again, waves of pleasure lapping against the base of her skull. She had never felt so turned on, never felt such a reckless need to capture and hold her own orgasm. Bella shoved her unruly hair back from her face, pulling the thick strands harshly, the pain in her scalp only amplifying the insistent pressure in her sex. She added her pointer and ring fingers, whimpering as the swollen tissues stretched and pulsed against her hand. Her hamstrings shivered and clenched. She dug her heels into the twisting covers and arched up, so close to the point of release that she wanted to cry out.

She was completely lost in the images that flashed behind her closed lids. She shrieked and choked in surprise when a larger hand closed over her wrist, pulling her fingers out to allow him to force himself back inside. Her eyes popped open to see his face hovering above her.

"You didn't really think I was going to leave you like that, did you?" his voice rasped.

She shook her head 'no', speechless before the force of his thrusts. Bella wrapped her legs around his hips, her arms around his neck, throwing herself into the rhythm of his mad assault. When her orgasm finally hit it was catastrophic, a brushfire racing through her body, searing nerves and tissues until she felt as if she would crumble like ash and drift away with the slightest breeze.

He continued to move over her, his hips playing a soft and sinuous song while she floated back from the brink of insanity. Bella's eyelashes fluttered, tickled by the kisses he rained down on her. Her arms and legs were limp and boneless, sliding down the sweat-slicked skin of his back and thighs.

"What happened?" Bella barely recognized her own voice.

"What do you mean?"

"You were gone. And then you weren't."

"I'm an idiot. I'm sorry. I tried to hold back. I really did. You don't know what you do to me, Bella."

"Actually, I don't mind. It's sort of a compliment."

"Only you would try to make me feel good about premature ejaculation. You really are the most adorable thing in the world." Edward chuckled breathlessly, gently withdrew from her and disappeared into the bathroom. He left the door open that time.

Bella shivered a little when he left, the sweat already cooling on her skin. Edward climbed back on the bed a minute later and handed her a warm, damp washcloth.

"Are you okay?"

She giggled as she gingerly wiped herself clean. "Um, yeah. How could I not be?"

"I don't know." He blushed a little. "I was just afraid I may have been too rough."

"Don't say that." Bella dropped the cloth on the floor and slithered under the covers, beckoning for him to join her. "You were perfect."

* * *

_Was she too forgiving? Or would you take it as a compliment, too?  
_


	18. Encore

_Late. I know. Sorry. Power has been going blinkety, blinkety, blink the last few days. Gotta love storms in the foothills!_

_Also, there are still a few days left to vote in the Mistletoe contest! (Yes I submitted an entry) Tons of amazing stories. check it out! _

_fanfiction author: u/6149179/Mistletoe-Contest _

* * *

They lay face to face examining each other in the dim light. She was afraid that things would turn awkward now that their immediate desire was appeased. That fear quickly dissipated as he pulled her close, his fingers combing carefully through her hair, his knee sliding between hers so their legs were intertwined.

Bella rested her hand against his chest, her fingers toying with the coarse and springy hairs. He kissed her gently on the lips and hummed contentedly.

"I don't know where you came from or what I did to deserve meeting you, but I want you to know how beautiful and incredible I think you are."

"I'm nothing special. You're the one who swooped in out of nowhere and rescued me from my shitty life."

"Oh come on, one bad day does not a shitty life make."

"If you hadn't shown up, I would have had a lot more than one bad day. How many bad days does it take to be allowed to call your life shitty?"

"If have anything to say about it, you'll never know the answer to that question."

Bella laughed softly. "Fine, Mister Knight-in-shining-armor. Thank you for rescuing me from my shitty day. And for being the funniest, kindest, sexiest man I've ever met."

"Ever?" he asked teasingly.

"Well, so far," Bella said with a shrug.

"That's it. You asked for it." Edward flipped her onto her back, pinned her to the mattress and proceeded to blow raspberries on her belly while she squirmed and kicked and laughed.

"Stop! Stop! Oh my gosh, you're killing me!"

He paused just long enough to shift his position so he lay over her, then pressed his lips to the space between her breasts and blew harder. Bella shrieked and kicked harder sending the blankets sliding from the bed.

"Eww! You got spit all over me. Gross! I take it back. You're not funny. You're immature!"

"I am? Really?" Edward pressed his erection against her thigh and laughed into her hair. His breath was hot against her throat and she felt her body melt against his almost immediately.

"Very," she replied, trying to sound stern but failing.

He flexed his hips, sliding his hard dick against her leg and chuckled again when she moaned.

"How long do we have to cuddle before it's permissible to do it again?"

"Uhhh. Is this your version of cuddling? Because I can think of a few more accurate terms. Besides, I didn't even know there was an ideal ratio for cuddling and sex."

"Everyone knows there is, but I don't think any man has discovered the secret formula. I'm sure millions have been burned in trial and error experimentation, but I'm hoping to avoid that. I have sensitive skin."

Bella narrowed her eyes at him. He sounded like he was joking, but she didn't want to make assumptions only to find out he was truly looking for guidance. "I don't know the exact amount of time, but it falls somewhere between rolling over and snoring and carrying her to work with you the next day."

"That is not helpful at all. It's impossible to have less cuddling than zero. You can't have a negative cuddle count. And carrying another adult around like a baby in a sling is absurdly impractical. You've gotta give me something more than that."

Edward released her arms and braced himself above her. She couldn't help noticing his arm muscles flexing in her peripheral vision. Bella rested her hands against his chest, pursing her lips thoughtfully as her fingers moved of their own accord. His skin _was_ very soft. She traced an imaginary line from his collarbone, along the depression between his pectoral muscles and down to his stomach, sensing the tiny shivers that spread out across his skin in the wake of her touch.

"I've never really thought about it. But you aren't really asking how long you have to cuddle with me before it's okay for you to roll over and go to sleep without hurting my feelings. You want more. That's completely different. If you want more and I want more, then I guess we can keep going." She chanced a look at his face. His eyes were half shut and he was breathing carefully. His face appeared calm and peaceful, but the pounding of his heart beneath her fingertips told another story. "Why are we analyzing this anyway? I thought you were of the opinion that I overthink things. You're setting a bad example if you want me to learn from you."

"You're absolutely correct. I'm out of my mind. Come here," he said and lowered his mouth to hers for another, deeper kiss.

Their lips and tongues joined in an easy dance, like music played low and slow, their hands exploring one another patiently, but thoroughly. Although there was less urgency between them now, there seemed to be more depth of feeling. Bella was staggered by the strength of her attraction. She marveled at the way they moved against each other. It felt new, but natural, as if they were lovers reconnecting after a long separation. He didn't feel like a stranger to her.

Sensations bombarded her brain as she learned the taste and feel of him. The tension that had built throughout the day had faded somewhat, making room for other thoughts to intrude. Mike was the only other man she had ever made love to. The only one she had shared such intimacy with. It was impossible for her mind not to compare and contrast the two.

Mike had been kind and solicitous in their life and in the bedroom, but he was also very conservative. His decisions walked down the center of the road, rarely drifting into risky or adventurous zones and definitely not off the beaten path. He would have been horribly shocked and confused if he had walked out of the bathroom to see her masturbating like that. Edward, on the other hand, had joined right in, instinctively knowing that it was his touch she wanted.

Mike kissed tentatively, waiting for her to lead him. She couldn't remember him ever getting carried away. Edward kissed with passion, his mouth manipulating hers, his tongue alternately diving hard against hers and then teasing her lips with feather-soft strokes.

Mike's hands followed a predictable path from her breasts to her butt and back again. Edward's fingers found endless paths of exploration, brushing beneath her breasts and along her side, running down the back of her thigh until his fingertips tickled the tender skin behind her knee. His touch was tantalizing and subtle one moment, then seconds later his fingers were digging into her flesh, demanding that she respond in kind. Edward's hand slid around to her lower back and he pulled her even closer so she couldn't _not_ feel the press of his erection against the inside of her thigh.

"Okay, okay. You've made your point!" she giggled.

She rolled from beneath him and dragged herself to the edge of the bed. The string of condoms was just within reach. Bella tore off the next one, tossed the wrapper on the floor with the others and turned back to Edward. He lay very still as she put it on, twitching involuntarily when her fingernail scraped against his skin. The latex overlapped and caught near the base and she hissed in frustration. She had only ever seen this done, never tried it herself. Edward chuckled breathlessly and helped her fix it, forcing it down further and stroking himself halfway up and down a couple times.

Bella licked her lips and looked up. His eyes were on her face, shadowed but intense. His lips were curved in a gentle smile. She lay down beside him and resumed kissing him, welcoming him back between her thighs, sinking into the glorious feeling of being touched and loved and worshipped all over again.

* * *

_A/N: Is it really fair to compare the two, Bella? Edward is a god. We all know that. Mike is merely mortal. And a spineless cheater._

REC: **The Face of All the World (COMPLETE)** by staringatthesky THIS IS REALLY, REALLY GOOD. It made me fall in love with the canon characters all over again.

A head full of dreams, an eye for the beautiful, and a wistful hope for adventure. That was Esme Platt. A husband, a baby, and a dark night on a cliff later the dreams are gone, beauty has turned monstrous and the adventure seems over before is even begun. But the world has other plans for Esme Platt, and a doctor with golden eyes and the face of an archangel will change everything

Twilight - Rated: M - English - Romance/Family - Chapters: 49 - Words: 132,093 - Reviews: 202 - Favs: 24 - Follows: 24 - Updated: Dec 2 - Published: Sep 19 - Carlisle, Edward, Esme, Charles - Complete


	19. Oasis

**OASIS**

I drink your words desperately

Bathe my scorched spirit in your praise

Festering wounds washed clean

Twisted scars made smooth

Calm. . . at last. . . resting in your shade

My heart shivers -

I look out once more

Across the desert sands

To which I must return

-MC

Bella woke with a start, surprised to realize she had fallen asleep at all. There was a faint glow of light from the hallway but otherwise the room was dark. She was naked beneath the covers. Naked and alone. It wasn't even 3 o'clock in the morning but she felt wide awake and very conscious of the fact that she needed to pee, brush her teeth and clean up.

Bella padded across the room, shivering as the cooler air hit her skin. She flicked on the lights feeling grateful that the lamps were shaded and softened the brightness. She was mildly disappointed that Edward was gone, but also relieved. Armed with floss, toothpaste, and make up remover, Bella hurried to the bathroom where she eagerly scrubbed her face and teeth clean.

She draped her nightie and clean underwear over the towel rack, turned the shower as hot as she could stand and stood beneath the spray. Moving as quickly as she dared, she shaved her legs and soaped down then turned the water even higher, feeling her pores open and her lungs expand as she took deep breaths of the hot, steamy air. Bella was lathering up her hair with shampoo when Edward tapped on the glass.

"I've been watching you shower for the last ten minutes and it's driving me crazy. I want in."

"It's not locked."

"I'll take that as an invitation," he chuckled as he slipped through the door then hissed with surprise when the scalding water hit his legs. "Holy shit, that's hot."

"But it feels so good," she hummed, tipping her head back and letting the conditioner rinse down her back.

"It looks so good." Edward reached out with both arms, ran his hands down her sides and traced circles on her hip bones with his thumbs. His breath smelled of peppermint and his hands felt cool. The contrasting scents and temperatures set all of her senses humming.

"Flatterer."

"Tease."

Bella tipped her head back again, closed her eyes a smiled. "Mmm. You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Not at all. Come here," he said, pulling her body flush against him.

Standing naked and wet in the shower could easily have been the catalyst for round three, but instead he just wrapped his arms around her, hugging her with his cheek against her hair and the steam billowing up around them. Bella felt like she should be doing something at first, touching or kissing or moving the embrace forward to something else. But eventually she relaxed into him, her heartrate slowing, her eyes drifting shut, his affection smoothing away the rough spots, the dings, the hurts, fears and insecurities.

He held her until she was so relaxed her knees wobbled and her muscles felt heavy and slack.

"Mmm. I want to cuddle up with you and sleep for a day. Then eat breakfast in bed and make love for hours."

"That sounds delicious," she replied. But even as she said it she knew it was impossible. She was leaving for the airport in less than 12 hours. "I'm going to dry off, pack my stuff and then let's go back to bed. When we wake up, I don't want to have to worry about anything else until it's time for me to go. I just want to spend every second with you."

"I'll order a taxi to pick you up. We can ride in the back seat together. Maximum cuddles."

"Your cuddle bank account is growing. I like this."

"I'm saving up for all the rainy days between now and next time I see you."

"Let's not talk about that right now. Finish your shower and come back to bed with me."

"Yes, ma'am," he said with a smirk then reached for the shampoo.

Bella toweled off vigorously and got dressed. Her hair hung in loose, damp tendrils down her back. The silk nightie felt cool and soft against her skin, swaying against her thighs with every step. She made short work of folding away her dirty clothes then climbed back under the covers to wait for Edward.

She bit her lip in surprise when he exited the bathroom completely naked, rubbing a white towel through his hair and across his chest, collecting stray drops of water off his skin. She allowed her eyes to travel from his hair, a dark reddish brown when wet, over his now familiar features and down his body. He was such a beautiful man. Everything about him screamed health and energy and masculinity.

She returned her gaze to his face and was met with a cocky smile.

"Tell me the truth. What was going through your head when I approached you at the airport?" Edward asked. He tossed the damp towel back through the doorway onto the bathroom floor and climbed onto the bed beside her.

"I have no clue. I was too overwhelmed to think. I definitely didn't think we'd end up here. Did you?"

"No. Not that I'm not thrilled to death. But you weren't really looking your best at that moment."

Bella pretended to be outraged and grabbed a pillow to beat him across the shoulders. Edward rolled away laughing and slipped off the bed in a tangle of sheets and bare legs.

"Oh my gosh, you just pulled a classic Bella move! I wish I had that on video," Bella gasped for air as she laughed uncontrollably.

"I'm glad you don't. Geez, woman! I could have broken something."

"Stop whining, you big baby. Your ultra-rich-guy-plush-carpet was there to protect your butt."

"Enough with the rich guy jokes. I do actually have a job to go along with my trust fund." Edward climbed back onto the bed and tumbled her into a full-body hug. He kissed along her shoulder, pulling the thin strap of her nightie down and licking along her collarbone

"A job that you have to go back to tomorrow morning." Bella reminded him. Her voice was soft and mournful. After such a short time, she couldn't believe how ingrained he was in her heart and mind. Tomorrow would be a vast and empty wasteland. Already her brain was trying to find a way to make it possible to see him again. But the logistics, the expense and the shear outlandishness of their rapid-fire romance was too much to contemplate.

"And you're flying back to Seattle. When will I see you again?" Edward's tone had gone from cheerful and excited to wistful in seconds.

Bella couldn't look him in the eye. He wanted to see her again. She wanted to see him. But there was no way she could commit to another relationship less than two days after breaking things off with Mike. They had been together for five years. You couldn't just move on like that, could you? The mantle of pleasure that Edward had wrapped her in began to dissolve like cotton-candy in the rain.

"I don't know. I didn't come here looking for you. . . for this. And everything has happened so quickly. Shit. I'm sorry. That came out all wrong," she cried as his face stiffened with pain. "I really like you. So much. And I want to see you again. I just have to figure out how this can work. We live so far apart."

"We'll figure something out. I'm not looking for promises, but I know that when you leave later I'm going to be abso-freaking-lutely inconsolable. I'm going to mope about the apartment eating ice cream straight out of the container and then drink myself into oblivion. And when I go into work tomorrow I'm going to yell at everyone, make a complete ass out of myself, and then hide in the break room and cry until it's time to go home."

Bella was giggling halfway through his rambling confession, and outright belly laughing by the time he was done. He laughed softly into her hair and wrapped his arms tightly around her. As she calmed down he placed soft kisses around the outside of her ear, down her neck and across her shoulder.

"No matter what, I'll never forget tonight. I plan to make sure you don't either." He brushed her hair to one side and continued to rain kisses gently across her skin.

Bella's laughter became soft, hiccupping giggles, and then gentle sighs. Edward rolled her gently from her side onto her stomach. His mouth traveled lower and lower, his lips creeping slowly down the length of her spine, kissing each vertebra through the silken fabric. He scooted down the bed inch by inch until he was kneeling between her calves. His hands gripped her hips and lifted, then pushed her knees forward and apart. He continued to kiss her, his lips and tongue drifting from side to side until he finally stopped with his mouth open against her sex and his fingers flexing and kneading her hips and butt.

Bella felt vulnerable and exposed, but she was too turned on, too aroused to flinch away when his right hand gripped her right cheek firmly and his thumb slipped beneath her thong to stroke up and down along her hypersensitive perineum. Bella buried her face in the pillow and moaned, pushing her hips up and back. She felt a tickling sensation crawling up her thighs. Edward pulled her underwear to one side then continued to lick and suck, his tongue stroking across her clit on one side and then the other. He shifted his weight back, resting on his heels, pulling her back against his searching lips with his left hand supporting her belly. Bella gasped as he began to knead her tummy, his fingers seeming to caress her womb from the outside even as his other hand massaged her butt and his tongue lapped hungrily against her clit.

The sensations converged like a vortex deep within her core, crashing against each other and washing through her like a torrent. Bella felt as if a balloon was expanding inside her. He gripped her tighter, trapping her in that position. Her desperate moans were muffled in the pillows, but nothing could drown out her exultant cry when the balloon finally stretched beyond the boundaries of her body and burst. She let out a strangled moan, arching up, crawling forward, trying to escape the myriad ways he manipulated her body. Her hands sought out the padded headboard and she grabbed onto it, anchoring her body when it threatened to disintegrate completely.

She was still quivering and panting into the pillows when he yanked down her panties and entered her once more, his weight and the immediacy of his desire driving her heart into her throat. Several desperate, pounding minutes later he cried out his release and sank into the mattress alongside her, gathering her body against his chest.

Tears spilled from her eyes and dripped into her still damp hair. Her throat was raw, her emotions lodged in a spiny tangle beneath her voice box making it impossible for her to speak.

"God, I'm going to miss you. I'm gonna go crazy when you leave. Say I can visit you. Please? I need to see you again."

Bella's tears flowed freely. She sniffed and nodded, her teeth clenched tight against her grief. Finding him made her whole again. Or maybe for the first time ever. She couldn't lose him.

When Edward disappeared for a minute she almost cried out in pain. The moment his weight hit the mattress she rolled into his arms, curling up as small and tight and close as she could, her tear soaked hair plastered to his chest and her knuckles pressed hard against her mouth. She fell asleep at last with his arms around her and his voice whispering away the pain.

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_A/N: I guess they can't ignore reality forever. :-(_

_Next Wednesday is Christmas Eve and I've already been struggling to hit my weekly update (obviously) so I plan to skip next week and start off the New Year with another chapter. Thanks so much for reading, reviewing and other awesomeness. Merry Christmas!_

REC:

**Lessons of a MPW** (Mad Pregnant Woman) by **Christie Hart**

COMPLETE! Bella discovers she is pregnant and her boyfriend kicks her out. Soon after she learns she is having not 1, but 4 babies. Holy Shit! Hilarity ensues. This story is written as short journal entries in an 18-year long letter to her kids which chronicles her experiences as they grow from itty bitty spuds in her tummy through to adulthood. Bella's helpful notes, tips and hilarious, irreverent, slightly psychotic approach to life are simultaneously gut-bustingly funny and beyond touching.

Moms, read this. You will laugh, cry and desperately want to cuddle your kids. Even if they are stinky 15 year old boys.

Yes, even then.

-Maggie


	20. The Beginning of the End

_Hope you all had a wonderful Christmas!_

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The sun was shining brightly by the time Bella awoke. She disentangled herself from Edward's embrace and sat up to look at him. He looked so young, vulnerable and innocent in his sleep. She reached out on instinct, brushing the pads of her fingers along his jaw line, smiling when he hummed contentedly and turned toward her hand. He kissed her palm and opened his eyes. They brimmed with affection and something more. Something beautiful and hopeful. She grinned in return.

"I can't sleep any more. I feel like I'm wasting time that I would rather spend with you."

"I agree. No more sleeping. But I'm half starved. Let's make breakfast together. Can you cook?" Edward levered himself up to sitting and the sheets fell away from his torso. Bella forced herself to keep her eyes on his face.

"A bit. My mainstay is poached eggs on toast."

"If we can add ham to the mix, I'm sold. My culinary skills extend to scrambling eggs and not burning the toast, but that's pretty much where they end."

"I'm warning you now, I'm not much better. I know enough to keep myself from starving. As for a menu, it's your fridge. I have no idea what you have in there."

"I always have sandwich meat. Eggs, too. But right now I need to piss like a race horse. I'll meet you in the kitchen in two minutes."

"Eww. Real classy."

"Just bein' honest," he laughed, swinging his legs over the side of the mattress.

Bella watched him leave the room wearing only his underwear. She shook her head and laughed then started searching through the covers and around the bed for her panties. She finally found them wedged between the mattress and the bedside table. She pulled them on beneath her nightie then went to the bathroom to pee, brush her teeth and wash her face. Bella made goofy faces at herself in the mirror, trying to erase the semi-permanent grin that pulled at her lips. She failed. No matter what she did it kept coming back. She eventually stuck her tongue out at her reflection, pulled her tangled hair into a rough pony tail and went out to the kitchen.

When she came around the corner her mouth dropped open. The living room was a scene of absolute chaos. Clothes were strewn about, the couch cushions were lying askew, one lamp was on the floor and the coffee table was shoved out at an angle. She had no memory of such violence, only the energy and fire of Edward's mouth on hers and his hands on her body.

"Holy shit."

Bella coughed and blushed when Edward came up behind her and saw the catastrophic state of his living room.

"Yeah," she croaked.

"Why don't you start the coffee while I get this tidied up, hmm?"

Bella nodded agreement and skirted around the couch to reach the kitchen. She found the coffee grounds and filters in the cabinet above the coffee maker and filled the basket and reservoir.

"This coffee really is delicious. Where do you get it?"

"I have no idea. Jasper buys it from some local store. I'll ask him later and send you some."

"Mmm. Thanks. It just smells and tastes so good. I wouldn't mind waking up to this every morning." Bella brought the open bag to her nose and inhaled deeply, feeling more awake and alert by the second.

Edward hung her coat and his jacket up by the door and started shifting the furniture back into place. Bella closed the coffee and put it away with a small sigh. She was trying her best not to think beyond that moment. She wanted to absorb and memorize every detail so she could relive it when she was back home. She drank in the sound of the coffee pot gurgling, the sunlight streaming through the windows, the way Edward hummed as he straightened up the living room. She watched him work for a few moments, looking so casual and comfortable in his shorts and plain t-shirt. Biting her lip to stifle the ever-present smile, she opened the massive refrigerator and started pulling out ingredients. Eggs, butter, creamer, bread, sliced ham. . . She had a pile of food on the counter in minutes.

"Hey, Edward, where do you keep your utensils?" She opened drawer after drawer, working her way around the kitchen with no luck. "Edward?"

There was only silence.

She looked over to see him standing by the couch with his back to her. His head was bent and he stood as still as a statue. Bella walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She planted a kiss between his shoulder blades but he didn't respond. His body was rigid, his muscles hard and tense, vibrating with an unnatural energy.

Bella stepped around him, looking up at his face with concern. His expression was distant. Alien.

"Edward?" Bella put her hand on his arm and then yanked it back as if shocked. She gulped heavily. Something was very wrong.

She moved her head slightly, looking down to where his right hand hovered at waist level. Light glinted evilly from the diamond ring that sat nestled in the palm of his hand.

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_A/N: Next update will be longer. I've been dreading this moment. Kudos to those who saw it coming. Sorry to those who didn't._

Rec: I don't know if I already rec'd this one here, but I re-read it recently and it's just as perfect as I remember. Short, complete, jam-packed with emotion and beautiful, poetic words.

**Aloftsoar **by** twentyfourth and vine**

There is no reason - no reason whatsoever that someone as famous as Edward Cullen would reply to a message someone sent him through social media. So why is he replying to me?

Rated: Fiction T - English - Chapters: 6 - Words: 6,326 - Reviews: 234 - Favs: 145 - Follows: 152 - Updated: Jan 27 - Published: Jan 21 - Status: Complete - id: 10041170


	21. Meltdown

Posting a day early because a) it's ready, b) I'm kind of anxious for your reactions, c) I'm busy all day tomorrow.

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Bella backed away slowly until her calves bumped against the couch. Edward was shaking, tiny tremors that rippled from his wrists up to his shoulders and across his chest. Bella watched him swallow as if he was just about to speak, but his face remained rigid, his lips pressed together, bloodless and unmoving.

Several minutes ticked by before he looked up at her, his face unreadable.

"What is this?" His voice was as cold and distant as the look in his eyes.

"A ring," she replied, her voice a tense whisper.

"Yours?"

She nodded once. Her vocal cords were immobilized by dread. His eyes flicked down to her left hand where the faint tan line confirmed what she couldn't bring herself to say aloud.

Edward placed the ring on the center of the coffee table. He stepped back, wiping his hand against his shorts, his expression as unreadable as a foreign tongue. Light passed through the diamond solitaire, glittering and splitting it into a spray of tiny rainbows on the shiny surface.

Edward's eyes were icy when he looked at her. If he felt pain she couldn't tell. If it was there it existed behind an impenetrable layer of disdain. Bella stood in silence, wishing he would speak. Yell. Anything. When he finally did she only wished he would stop.

"Is this what you had planned with your girlfriend from college all along? Is this some game you two play? Hide your ring when you get off the plane and then fuck the first poor sap who falls for your innocent, girl-next-door act? You thought because you were in a different state that it wouldn't matter? As long as he was in the dark you could have your fun, right? You're disgusting. I hope your fiancé finds out what a whore you are and runs for the hills before he's stuck with you for life."

Bella flinched before his verbal attack. Surprise, anxiety and guilt had thrown her completely off balance. She was speechless. As much as she wanted to cut him off and set him straight, as much as she wished she could just tell him the truth, her pride kept her jaw clamped tightly shut. How would it improve his opinion of her if he knew she had rebounded straight from heartbreak into his bed? At least this way he didn't see her as spineless and pathetic. A selfish bitch, maybe, but not somebody to be pitied. She stood up straighter and raised her chin in defiance.

"You don't know the first thing about me," she retorted coldly when he finally stopped speaking.

"You're absolutely right. I don't. You've been pretty tight-lipped about yourself haven't you? Didn't want to get caught in a lie?"

Fury quickly displaced guilt and Bella took three angry steps toward him. "I never lied to you."

"You lied to me when you kissed me. When you made love to me. When you cried and told me you wanted to see me again. You lied with every breath and every single fucking word!" Edward advanced toward her as he spoke, his voice rising, his eyes flashing, his face taking on the terrifying cast of an avenging angel.

Bella wanted to cower before his anger. She wanted to back away and cry. She wanted to confess the truth and beg for him to see how much she wanted him, needed him, how much she already cared. That part of her desperately needed him to wait, to give her a chance to explain.

But another part of her was swelling and fighting for air, hungry for justice. She had stood back and watched her future with Mike stripped from her with zero warning. When she opened up to Edward, she had only wanted something for herself. Something good. Something beautiful and untainted. Edward had offered it to her freely. She hadn't sought him out. She hadn't tried to take anything. He had offered it and she had accepted. He had no right to lash out at her, no right to call her a whore. Like a cornered creature, her instincts demanded that she strike back.

"I didn't ask for your help. I didn't look for you to swoop in and save me. How do I know you've never done something like this before? You've played up the good guy persona so much there's no way it's real. You just decided to bring some random stranger home to feed and entertain for days? Who does that? If I wasn't a young, moderately attractive woman you wouldn't have even considered offering to help me!"

"How dare you turn this back on me? I haven't done anything wrong. I'm not the one fucking around when I'm supposed to be getting married. Don't judge me by your own twisted sense of morality. I would have offered you a place to stay whether you were a dude or an old woman, or any other random stranger. I sure as hell wasn't trolling for easy sex. If I wanted emotional baggage I wouldn't have turned down every woman I've ever met for the last five years."

"Well, you're awfully humble aren't you," Bella cut in sarcastically.

"You're just angry that I found out the truth before you got tired of using me. Tell me, how would it have played out? Would you have ignored my calls? Now that I mention it, I don't even have your phone number, do I? Would you have invited me over and screwed me at some cheap hotel while your fiancé was at home completely in the dark? What's his name, anyway? Jimmy? Stephen? Max? Am I getting close?"

Tears were burning in her eyes. She clenched her hands in fists feeling her nails cutting deep into her palms. She was shaking as she paced towards him.

"Shut up. Just shut up. You don't have a fucking clue. You can take your perfect conscience and superior ego and shove them up your ass!"

Bella came to a stop in front of him, her face flushed and her eyes wild with rage. Edward's lips were quivering, his fingers curling and uncurling as if he wanted to wrap them around her neck and squeeze the life from her body. The coffee maker gurgled and spluttered in the background, a cheerfully domestic sound amid the cataclysmic emotions.

Their eyes were locked, their faces wiped clean of all tenderness and affection. His breath washed over her face with every exhalation.

"You're disgusting," he hissed, the words and his tone conveying clearly his absolute hatred.

"Fuck you," she shrieked, her right hand whipping out to slap him.

The sound of her palm smacking his cheek was like a thunderclap. He grabbed her wrist and twisted it behind her back.

"Bitch," he growled. His left eye was watering, but he towered over her, unflinching.

With a pained cry, Bella swung with her left hand, but his reflexes were faster and he caught that hand, too. He held her hands against the small of her back, crushing her body against him. They panted hoarsely, standing chest to chest and quaking with emotions spinning far out of control.

Bella shook in his arms, remembering suddenly that he was a man, a powerful man, and she was completely at his mercy. She hadn't truly believed any of her accusations. But now, feeling so vulnerable, she sensed the first tendrils of fear creeping up her spine. He could do whatever he wanted to her. She couldn't stop him if she tried. Already her wrists and shoulders were screaming in protest. She wriggled ineffectively and tried to pull away.

Rather than release her, he pulled her tighter against him, his eyes hard and his jaw clenched. He looked down at her mouth, her lips still red and swollen from a night filled with heated kisses. With an angry cry his mouth crashed against hers. When she tried to pull back he pinned her wrists with one hand and held her head still with the other. His kiss was brutal and animalistic. His tongue forced its way passed her lips and his teeth clashed against hers.

Bella fought him at first, enraged by the intrusion, furious with her helplessness. But, despite her fear and hurt, she couldn't help the way her body responded to his. The taste of him was just as sweet. The feel of his muscles flexing against her still made her want to melt. She found herself kissing him back, almost against her will. She whimpered and pressed against him, desperate for him to erase the last ten minutes, to take them back to the bliss of their night together.

His hands released her suddenly and he stumbled backward. He was shaking his head, his mouth twisted with anguish, tears streaming down his too-white cheeks.

"Go. Please, just go. . ." he cried.

Edward tripped as he turned, then disappeared down the hall to his bedroom. The door closed behind him with a muffled thud.

Bella sat down on the floor, shaking violently with shock. She watched her hand rise up of its own volition, reach out and pick up the ring. She slipped it back on her finger. It still fit perfectly. With a low and agonized moan, she curled into herself and cried.

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_A/N: As always, thanks for reading, whether you leave a review or not. I'm glad you are enjoying these two!_


	22. Exit Wounds

_A/N: So many great comments on the last chapter. Wow. Of course, if I knew that kind of angst would get such a reaction, I would have gone all Michael Bay on their relationship a long time ago! ha ha _

_Normally I reply to reviews but I was really afraid I would say too much this time. So, here's a universal thank you to everyone who has been reading, rec'ing and reviewing. I love you guys and I treasure every one! (Yes, even the critical ones)_

* * *

The pain started with the sharp stab of a bullet wound, a deep puncture that slid between bones and viscera to create a sinkhole of agony in the center of her chest. With every single breath the walls crumbled and caved, more of her spirit eroding and collapsing into the center of the pit. She cried until her tears ducts ran dry and then she just gasped and trembled. She wasn't capable of anything else. The pain was too great. It spread like a black cloud until it eclipsed all of her senses and the world around her dimmed to gray.

Trapped in her head, Bella tortured herself with memories of the last two days. The first horrific revelation of Mike's infidelity, Edward's miraculous appearance, the ways he put her at ease, made her laugh and teased her. The way he looked at her with a hunger that made her ache in ways she had never felt before. The way he touched her with such tenderness and desire. The way he infused every movement with so much joy and sensuality as he loved her.

And then the moment when it all imploded. The moment when she should have told him how she really came to be in the airport on Tuesday night looking for an escape route. But, truthfully, she knew that wasn't even her first opportunity. Bella remembered countless moments when she could have told him. And she hadn't. First of all because she was ashamed. Then because she was scared. She was scared that if he knew about Mike, he wouldn't want her either. And she wanted him to want her so very, very badly!

Now she was shattered. She had him for one brief, beautiful, glorious night, and then she had let him go. She had allowed her fear and pride to ruin the most precious thing she had ever found. That knowledge cut deeper than anything else. This was her doing.

At some point the phone rang. She waited as the harsh sound pealed through the apartment, ring after ring, until finally the caller gave up. Bella listened for sounds of life from the other end of the apartment but there was nothing.

Called back to the present against her will, she had no choice but to move. She unfolded herself slowly, her muscles protesting the change as she carefully climbed to her feet. She was shivering, whether from cold or emotional exhaustion she did not know. Her silk slip was wrinkled and splotched with tears. She chafed her arms and hands to bring back circulation but stopped almost immediately. It didn't warm her. Instead, the friction cut across her skin like gravel.

Her eyes were drawn to the kitchen where the coffee and breakfast ingredients still sat out on the counter. Bella methodically returned each item to the place she got it from. Her teeth were chattering so she poured herself a mug of coffee. It was scorched and bitter and left a sour taste in the back of her mouth. She gulped it down anyway before emptying and cleaning the machine.

Bella continued on into the living room, finishing the job that Edward started although she shied away from thinking of him directly. She folded his clothes and set them on the coffee table. She set his shoes side by side near the front door. There were a few bent and twisted hairpins stuck in the carpet. She gathered them and threw them away in the kitchen garbage. Then, keeping her eyes on the floor, she carried her clothes back to the guest room. When she saw the bed she felt a wave of dizziness wash over her. The sour coffee sloshed in her otherwise empty stomach. Her legs wobbled and she slipped to the ground and waited for the feeling to recede.

When she could stand without swaying she got back to work. It took all of her strength to keep her mind focused on the task at hand. Her luggage was mostly packed so she changed hastily into real clothes, rolled her dirty clothes into a tight bundle and stuffed them into her carry-on. She couldn't bear being in that room any more. The scent of their love-making was still heavy in the air. Breathing shallowly past the hollow wound in her chest, Bella managed to wrestle her suitcase out into the hallway.

That's where her strength failed her. She could still feel him. His presence was like magnetic north, a constant pull on the lodestone of her heart. She stood in the hallway, her feet wanting to turn right even as she told them, ordered them, to turn left and carry her away. It was useless. Fighting it was hopeless. Bella let go of her luggage. With hesitant steps and a pounding heart she approached the door at the end of the hall.

As she got closer she could hear music. Music without words. Music overflowing with an agony so exquisite she could feel it fusing with the raw and angry wound in her chest. Her hand was shaking violently as she pressed it to the door. He was so close, and she knew she could call out to him. If she could only find her voice, she could make him listen. She could explain it all and beg for him to see. She could ask him to forgive. Couldn't she? Or was it too late?

Her eyes were too swollen for tears to escape, but they prickled and burned all the same. With a soundless sob she closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the door. She listened to the wail of violins and the haunting tremolo of the cellos and bass. She waited for the moment when the movement would draw down to a close and she could speak into the silence.

That silence never came. The phone rang again. She heard the dual sound of ringing from the kitchen and a more muffled tone from the phone in his room. This time he picked up. At the sound of his voice her courage failed her. His tone was all business. The warmth was gone.

She backed soundlessly down the hall, hoping she could grab her luggage and flee before he decided to open his door and see her there. She had her luggage in hand and had only taken one step when his bedroom door opened and he stepped out into the hall behind her. She froze, feeling like she had been caught in the act of doing something criminal.

"Good. You're leaving. That was the front desk. Your car is ready and waiting."

Bella couldn't look at him. He sounded so calm. So distanced. She couldn't look at him with her face ravaged by grief and regret. She couldn't bear the humiliation. Hearing his strength only made her feel more weak and pathetic. She missed his tenderness and compassion. She missed the innate trust that had grown so quickly between them only to be shattered by her pride and cowardice. In that moment, feeling his eyes fixed on her back, she had never felt more worthless.

Bella was unable to speak. So instead, she acknowledged his message with a nod and resumed walking.

His whispered words of farewell barely escaped his lips before he shut his door again.

"Be safe," he said.

And with those two words, her tears returned. How? Why? Despite his hurt and anger, he still offered that final benediction. In the face of his goodness and humanity her own behavior felt even lower. Bella sniffled and wiped her nose with the back of her hand. Her engagement ring scraped across her chapped and swollen lips. With a hiss of frustration she pulled on her coat, grabbed her purse and checked to make sure she had everything.

She couldn't find her wallet. It was past 1:30, the car Edward had ordered to take her to the airport was waiting downstairs and she was late. Bella searched frantically through her bag and suitcase but still came up empty handed. Then she remembered handing her wallet to Edward as they entered the theater the night before. That evening felt like a memory from another lifetime. She felt in his jacket and sure enough her wallet was there. When she pulled it out, his smaller wallet came too, falling to the floor at her feet.

She jammed her wallet into her purse and picked his up to return it to his pocket. It flipped open in her hand and her heart skipped a beat.

A clear sleeve in the center held a photo. In the picture, a petite woman with soft brown eyes and a sweet, oval shaped face smiled at the camera. She was leaning back into a man's embrace. His eyes were looking down at her with pure adoration.

Bella knew that look. She knew what it felt like to have that gaze turned on her and she choked on the upwelling of grief and loss. She cupped the wallet in her hands, staring with disbelief at a younger Edward. One arm, his left arm, was hugging the girl across her upper chest and a wide gold-band adorned his ring finger. Her left hand was curled around his wrist, similarly decorated. But the detail that crushed Bella completely was the sight of their right hands, fingers interlaced and resting against her pregnant belly.

Bella felt like an intruder, an unwelcome voyeur into their obvious happiness, but she couldn't stem the flood of questions that tore through her mind. Edward was alone now. He hadn't mentioned a wife or a child. Perhaps they were divorced. Maybe she had left and taken their child with her. But if that was the case, why had he seemed so wistful and sad when she suggested he would make a great father?

Suddenly, her innocent compliment and his ambiguous response seemed like the most profound moment in their brief friendship. If things had played out differently, maybe he would have told her eventually. Now she would never know.

Confused and filled with more questions and regrets than she could possibly process, Bella scribbled a short note on the pad by the phone. She wanted to say so much more, but didn't dare. She had done everything wrong up to this point. The most decent thing she could do now was offer him a clean break.

You will always have my gratitude. –Bella

It wasn't right. It wasn't nearly enough. But there was nothing else to say. Bella left the apartment and pulled the door shut behind her.

He would always have her gratitude. But, she would always have her regrets.

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**Rec: The May-to-December Romance Contest started posting entries recently. Turn your A/C up and check them out. WOW! So much talent and hotness! And for all you writers out there, it's not too late. They are accepting entries through January 30th!**


	23. Homeless

Tarbecca, Thanks so much for the rec! I love your weekly Fic Dive over on A Different Forest and it is HUGE compliment to be included. Thanks!

* * *

_Homeless_

_They say home is where the heart is_

_Then my home is gone_

_Broken_

_Scattered_

_Lost_

_Desolate without you_

_\- MC_

Bella kept her eyes on the floor as she walked to the elevator. The surface was flat and stable. It wouldn't trip her up. But people. . . they could. She didn't want to meet their eyes and see their reactions. She knew she looked terrible with her tangled hair, red eyes and blotchy, swollen face. She cringed away from their looks as she hustled through the lobby and out to the Town Car waiting at the curb. She could feel their curiosity, their pity, their puzzlement. It was humiliating.

An older gentleman with white hair and a neat black suit was waiting by the car. With a quiet greeting and a kind nod he took her bags and ushered her into the back seat. As the door shut behind her, Bella looked down and saw a half dozen white roses tied with a yellow ribbon laid across the seat beside her. She buckled her seatbelt and stared at them. There was no question who they were from. She only wondered how long ago he had ordered them. Yesterday? Last night? This morning before he discovered her ring? And now, after everything was over, did he wish he could take them back?

The driver pulled out into traffic. Bella hesitantly picked the bouquet up and ran the stiff yellow ribbon between her fingers. The presentation was gorgeous. Elegant. She noticed three pewter charms fixed in the center of the bow; an ice skate, a beer bottle and a pair of masks depicting comedy and tragedy.

It was so like the Edward she knew to commemorate the high points of their short entanglement. She could hardly call it a relationship. As he had confessed earlier, he wore his emotions on his sleeve. He held nothing back. The intended symbolism was obvious, however, she was struck by the irony of the drama charm. From euphoria to desolation, the 40 hours she spent with Edward Masen encompassed the full range of human emotion.

And now she felt empty. Drained of energy, of life, of hope.

She felt numb.

When they pulled into the familiar departures drop-off zone, Bella wearily thanked the driver for his assistance and gathered her belongings.

"Miss. Your flowers," he said holding out the roses.

"They aren't for me," she replied with a sad smile. _They were meant for a different girl. Someone worthwhile. I'm just a mirage._

Bella didn't know what he was thinking behind those kind gray eyes, but he didn't argue or push. He just nodded and wished her a safe flight.

As she went through the familiar motions at check in, the security checkpoint and the boarding gate, the events of the past two days began to seem more and more surreal. She wasn't taking away anything from the experience. No mementos. No souvenirs. Nothing but the feeling of soreness in her hips and between her thighs where, for a brief, brief time she had shared the love and passion of a wonderful man. And even that was starting to feel like a dream.

Bella declined the drinks and food the flight attendant offered. She sank back into the padded first-class seat, turned her face to the window and waited. When the aircraft pulled away from the terminal and began to taxi, the gaping hole in her chest seemed to ice over. The pain was gone. It was just cold and numb. Even the pressure of the g-forces as the engines spooled up and propelled them down the runway did little to stir her. She closed her eyes as the front gear lifted off and kept them closed while Chicago faded into the distance behind them.

The sun had already set when they touched down at Seatac Airport. Bella dragged her suitcase along behind a shuffling crowd of travelers, all making their way to the Link Station at the north end of the terminal. She watched the ever present raindrops striking the windows and pouring down onto the street below. When it was her turn to pay the fare and board the train she did so automatically. It was something she had done dozens of times on return trips from Chicago. This was a well-worn path.

The familiarity continued as the train barreled along, suspended above a weaving snake of red and white lights, flying over the thousands of cars cruising along on their evening commute. The sense of deja vu was eerie. The only thing that was different was her. Her compass was broken and whirling drunkenly. Her world had been rocked and now it wobbled unevenly on its axis. She continued to stare through the rain-streaked glass and tried desperately to ignore the press of bodies around her. They made her feel anxious, as if her shell was fractured and a single careless bump would send her spinning and crashing to the ground.

Stop by stop, the train gradually emptied and she breathed a little easier. At the University Street station, Bella heaved her suitcase out to the sidewalk, pinned her eyes to a point about four feet in front of her feet and started walking. Her apartment was only a few blocks away. It was too close but also so far away.

What would she do when she opened the front door? How could she fall back into the routine of unpacking, washing clothes and restocking the fridge? That life was over. It wasn't hers any more. Mike had crushed the life she knew and then she had thrown away all hope of a future with Edward. The hill was steep and her lungs were burning. She felt as if her heart could no longer force the blood through her veins. It had gotten too thick, congealing in the cold. Her heart stuttered and thumped unevenly and her sides began to ache.

She plodded on and followed the pedestrian path beneath I-5, finding comfort in her anonymity. She was just another hooded figure walking through Freeway Park at night. The city towered behind and above her, the constant glow of cars and streetlights warding off the true darkness of the night.

Soon the spasms between her ribs became so strong that her vision blurred. She dragged her suitcase over to a park bench, leaned it against the end and sat down. Water seeped through her jeans and into her skin. It was strangely comforting to feel the cold from the outside working its way in. It balanced the ice that crystallized the flesh around her heart and lungs.

Bella swung her legs up onto the bench and lay back. Anemic light filtered through the near-bare branches of the tree above her. The sky hung low, drizzling clouds swallowing the tops of the buildings. The air was dense and cold, coating her lungs as she inhaled carefully. It made her teeth ache and throb. Her shoulder blades dug uncomfortably between the wooden slats beneath her. The bench was hard. Unforgiving. She shifted her weight, but it only transferred the dull pressure to her hip bones. She stretched her toes inside her boots. Stiff and tired, they sucked in the numbing cold.

Stubborn leaves clung to the branches above her. An errant breeze stirred them, shaking a shower of water droplets across her face. She shivered. Fingers of wind pulled her hair from beneath her hood, dragging them across her throat. They tickled like spider legs and she swiped them away. She dreaded the bitterness her new life would bring.

A single leaf twisted free and spiraled toward her, spinning at the last second and landing in her hair instead of on her face. She closed her eyes and waited for the cold to find its way deeper. Hoping it would make it possible to stomach the thought of going home. Wishing it would just erase her completely. But it never did.

The sound of acid churning and gurgling in her empty stomach eventually forced her to move. Intellectually, she acknowledged that she would eventually have to go home. Her body needed heat, food and water. Her coat and suitcase were soaked clear through. She would have to empty them and hang them out to dry. These were truths she could not deny. In a way, meeting her body's needs was less of an effort than ignoring them.

When she let herself into her apartment she was strangely surprised. Everything was exactly as she left it. Everything about her was different, but everything here was the same. . . That seemed wrong somehow.

In the bathroom, Bella stripped off her clothes and dumped the sopping pile in the tub. She hung her coat over the shower rail. Naked and shivering she went to her bedroom to put on pajamas. The first article of clothing she saw was one of Mike's t-shirts draped over the foot of her bed. She had two of them and always wore them to bed. Standing there in her bedroom, completely nude, skin damp and clammy, it finally hit her.

She didn't know why it hadn't completely registered before. She knew it was over the moment Jessica answered the door to Mike's apartment. Mike wasn't hers any more, but her body hadn't accepted it yet. And now it did. Her skin was crawling. Itching. The sight of that shirt made her stomach heave and she clamped her lips shut against the urge to vomit. He was everywhere.

With her arms wrapped tight around her middle and her hair dripping on the laminate floor, she stared at the shirt of the first boy she had ever loved. She remembered the sweet reassurance his friendship had brought her. The comfort and security of his hugs. She thought of the way he always pulled her closed and tucked the blanket snugly around her legs and feet before pushing 'play' on the remote. He had cared. She knew he did. What changed? What did she do wrong?

Bella pulled on a hoodie, underwear and pajama pants then went back to the kitchen to grab a garbage bag. The first thing she put in it was Mike's t-shirt. From there she pulled open her drawers, yanking out clothes she had bought thinking of him, clothes she had bought while she was with him, clothes she remembered him complimenting. They all went in the bag. She yanked pictures off the wall, push pins snapping and flinging across the room. She stuffed the teddy bear with the red Valentine's heart in along with the card from her last birthday, the movie ticket stubs, bottle tops, Space Needle keepsake and all the other fragments of their relationship that had accumulated over the years.

She dragged the bag out to the living room and started piling on the rest. The sheets from her bed, CDs, DVDs, blankets, shot glasses, framed photos, books, the ceramic dishes they had painted together on their last anniversary. . . The pile grew and with it her temper returned. Bella stood back and yanked the cork out of a bottle of wine. She filled a water glass to the brim, and drank thirstily. When it was empty she refilled it and stood, eyes burning and stomach convulsing, staring at the mountain of trash. It was all there. Everything that was tainted by the lie. She took another gulp of wine and scanned the space for anything she might have missed. Her walls were bare. Her shelved were stripped of everything but the books and photos she brought from her parents' house. It looked like a tornado had torn through and ravaged the space.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Now it looked right.

* * *

_A/N: Do you think it helps to purge after a bad break up? Is it part of healing or does it only make things harder in the long run?_

Right now I am really enjoying **Protector** by **Kitty T's Keyboard**. (Rec'd by Tarbecca on a recent Fic Dive). Bella was kidnapped as a teenager and escaped, but her captor is still out there, killing innocent girls as a message and a threat to her. Bella is in hiding and on the run, but she is far from helpless. The normal cast of characters come together in a unique way to help this strong, resourceful Bella track him down and heal the wounds from the past. Kitty T is also writing the EPOV simultaneously. It's two great WIP's at once! Check it out!


	24. Purge

_I'm way behind on my update schedule. I blame Carrie ZM, Nicffwhisperer and everyone else involved in the May to December Romance Contest. They are also responsible for the complete neglect of all my other responsibilities this week (And probably next week, too). Voting runs from February 1st through February 9th! Get over there and check out the stories!_

* * *

At first, her anger ate straight through all her other feelings, but like any fire burning unchecked it eventually ran out of fuel. As it faded to ashy embers, Bella was left with an echoing emptiness inside. Like her apartment, her heart and mind had been ransacked. Once she purged all traces of Mike, there were just bare spots, empty places that showed the marks of recent occupancy. There were stains and depressions in the carpet and scuffs on the walls, but the lingering shell was vacant and void of life.

Bella sat down on the floor, her legs crossed and the almost empty bottle of wine within easy reach. She held her glass between her shaking hands and stared at her ring. It really was beautiful. It was perfect. Mike had taken her to a custom jeweler and they designed it together. Looking at it made her dizzy, the past and present and the future that should have been were twisting around, the truth lost amid the stone's many facets.

Bella eased the ring off her finger and spun it on the floor. It belonged on the top of that pile. Or maybe down the toilet. It represented more than a broken promise. It was also the catalyst for the mind fuck implosion of whatever she might have had with Edward.

She didn't want to think about Edward. That hurt even more than thinking about Mike. And _that _confused her more than anything else. She had known Mike for what, seven years? More than a quarter of her life! But somehow, the two days she spent with Edward were so much more vivid, overflowing with emotions so intense she could barely process them. It was like her life before was filmed in black and white, and she saw color for the very first time when she kissed Edward. It rattled her.

Bella was annoyed when she realized her glass was empty. Sipping on the wine had been helping. It eased her from thought to thought, softening the feelings and slowing them down so she could really evaluate them. She poured the rest of the wine into her glass, her hand dipping and wobbling as the weight and balance of the bottle shifted. She steadied it with her other hand but still sloshed wine on her leg.

Bella dropped her ring into the glass and watched it sink to the bottom. Tiny bubbles clung to the surface, gleaming yellow and gold. She imagined the stone screaming as it drowned. The thought made her frown. She felt sad and guilty at first, then mad at herself for being weak. With a huff of exaggerated annoyance she chugged the rest of the wine and burped, leaning woozily back against the cabinets.

Now the ring just clinked back and forth. Back and forth.

That's how Alice found her.

Bella never heard the door of her apartment open. The clack of heels on laminate made her raise her head. Her eyes refused to focus so she closed them.

"Bella? Are you okay?"

She tipped her head in a careful nod.

"What is going on? What happened in here?"

"Spring cleaning."

"It's December."

Bella lifted one shoulder in a shrug. Moving was not easy. Signals from her brain to her muscles and back again were sluggish.

Alice set her bag on the counter and sat down in front of Bella.

"Why is your ring in your glass?"

"I wanted to see if I could drown it."

"Oh."

The two friends sat in silence for several moments.

"I was coming over to grab the denim mini dress I made for you. I wanted to add a zipper. Rough it up a bit."

Bella lifted her head and opened her eyes long enough to find and point to the mountain of flotsam in the center of the living room.

"Why is it in there?"

"It's in the black bag. Mike said it looked sexy on me."

"That's because it did."

"Yeah, I know." Her voice trailed off and her throat began to ache in that familiar way that forecasted the approach of more tears. She wanted another glass of wine. There was another bottle in the fridge. That was way too far away.

Alice stood and walked over to the living room, circling the mess with her hands on her hips.

"What was wrong with the rose-print skirt?"

"I wore it to Mike's parent's anniversary party."

"Ahhh. So, Mike is. . ."

"He was cheating on me, Allie."

Alice sighed but didn't respond.

"I went to his apartment and knocked on the door and there she was. And she was cute, you know? Like bubbly, funny cute. I can't even hate her because she didn't know either. And then when she started crying he went to _her_. He hugged her and I was on the floor and he didn't even see me. Five years! We were together five years! I didn't know what to do, so I turned around and left. I went straight back to the airport."

"Wait, you've been sitting here all alone and drinking for two days? Bella, you should have called me! I've been sending you goofy annoying texts thinking I was being funny. Why didn't you tell me to stop? I would have come over and helped with your spring cleaning."

She couldn't hold the tears back any longer. Not when she thought about where she really was the last two days. Not when she considered how much more she had lost than she was admitting to Alice. Edward was _her _secret. Telling Alice about Mike was horrible, but her friend was sympathetic and supportive. Would that sympathy remain if she knew what Bella had done? She couldn't begin to explain, couldn't even think about, what had happened between her and Edward.

"That's it. I'm not going in to work tomorrow. You and me, we're going to get this place cleaned up, get rid of anything you don't want lying around and you can start fresh. New everything."

"Oh, God. You know I don't have the money for that. I blew through most of my rainy day fund changing my ticket." Bella covered her face with her hands.

"My gift. It's almost Christmas. Let me do something nice for you. Please?"

"No. It's too much. I don't even want to live in this place any more. I can't walk into the bathroom or sit at the table or go into my bedroom without seeing him. I thought getting rid of stuff would help. But it doesn't. It won't. He's everywhere, Allie. And it's not just here. I'm gonna see him in all my favorite places. He's ruined everything!"

"Then we'll find new favorite places. It's going to be okay. You'll see. I'm going to find some moving boxes and tape and we can pack this stuff up. You'll feel better when it isn't staring at you."

"How would you know?" Bella asked a bit petulantly.

"How would I know what?"

"That I'll feel better."

"Well. . . you said you-"

"I said it wouldn't help." She slammed her glass down on the floor and stood up, catching herself on the counter when the room tipped and whirled around her.

"Be careful. Okay, so maybe we should just sort it out into three piles. Trash, things you want to put away out of sight for now and the things you want to donate or give away. There's no reason why we can't-"

"Stop. You're not helping," Bella levelled an impatient glare at Alice. Alice looked at the floor and at the wall, scanned the whole room but didn't meet Bella's blurry gaze.

"Why don't you tell me what would help."

Bella giggled at the absurd command. Alice was all about action. Moving on, moving forward. She was born with confidence and self assurance, not like normal people. Any confidence Bella had was built painstakingly over years of effort and determination. She had to study far into the early morning hours to earn her A minuses. She had to scrimp and save to afford her downtown apartment. She had to sacrifice and compromise to maintain her relationships.

Alice, on the other hand walked through life looking straight forward. She didn't give a shit what other people said about her. She didn't need to. Everything fell into place for her. Money, grades, men. Hah! Men followed her like puppy dogs and when she dumped them they thanked her for the privilege! It was insane!

Bella's temper grew hotter and hotter as Alice started shaking out and folding clothes, stacking books and turning Bella's perfect shrine of destruction into something more controlled.

"I said stop!" Bella cried, slapping the counter with her palm. The impact was jarring, sending sharp pains shooting through her hand and wrist.

Alice gently set down the pillow case she was folding and turned to look at Bella, her eyes big and overflowing with compassion. To Bella it felt more like pity. And pity was condescending.

"I'm just trying to help. Would you rather get something to eat? You must be starving! We could get out of here, watch a movie, get some ice cream."

"Ha ha. Of course. The universal cure for a broken heart, a chick flick and ice cream. As if any man is going to want me once I'm done drowning my sorrows in sugar and fat and I've turned myself into a blimp."

"Seriously, Bella? You're tiny. One ice cream is not going to make you fat. You're overreacting."

"I'm overreacting?" she cried, stomping her foot in outrage. "How should I react? Do you even know what this feels like? No, of course not. You've never been in love. Men are disposable to you. And I had a great one. A perfect one. He's not somebody I can just flush away and forget about!"

"Great? Perfect? He cheated on you, Bella!"

The realization that she was no longer talking about Mike hit her like a bucket of ice water. But Alice didn't know that. She could never know that. The longer she hung around, the higher the chance Bella would let something slip. Alice noticed everything. She was already evaluating her with those shrewd, searching eyes.

Bella needed her to leave. Now.

"How sweet of you to remind me. I told you to stop, you didn't listen. Then you have the nerve to throw my own heartbreak and humiliation in my face. For someone who claims to be my best friend, you sure do find creative ways to show it. Why don't you go and cheer somebody else up. I'm sure the suicide watch wing at the local mental hospital would love your help."

Alice bit her lip and stared up at the ceiling, her arms crossed tight over her belly.

"Okay. I get it. I've never been in your shoes. But that doesn't mean I don't want to help. I do. So much."

Bella turned her back and started rooting through the fridge for the riesling she had been saving for Christmas. She pulled it out triumphantly and unscrewed the lid.

"Are you sure you should be drinking more?"

"Did I ask you?" Bella said coldly, helping herself to a fresh glass and filling it almost to the rim.

"No. I guess you didn't."

Bella stood staring at her cabinets, sipping her wine slowly. Eventually Alice gave up. Bella was relieved when she finally grabbed her bag and the few items of clothing she had retrieved and let herself out of the apartment.

People were too complicated. She decided she needed to keep things simple. One step, one goal at a time. And right then, emptying the bottle on the counter was at the top of the list.

* * *

_A/N: If you want to shake Bella violently right now, don't worry. You are not alone. I've even set up a support line if you want to rant about it. It's just down there. Yeah, the big 'review' window._


	25. Inside Out

_Voting is closed on the May to December Romance Contest and I never quite made it through all the entries. :-( I can't wait to see who wrote what. Any guesses on which was mine? Internet High Fives to anyone who guesses correctly!_

_Oh, and last Friday, Tinie432 featured **author-self-insert** (You are reading **Gothic**, aren't you?) and me in her** 'Author-to-Author Chit Chat' Campfire** over on **A Different **. It was so much fun. If you haven't read it already, check it out! (And don't be shy about telling me how adorable my kids are.)_

_So, back to weekly updates!_

* * *

Bella sat on her bed and waited out the night, watching the outside world through her 9th story window. As midnight approached traffic began to taper off until the silence was broken only by the occasional rumble of a car or truck making its way down the narrow street below.

Bella greeted Friday with an uncomfortable burp. Her esophagus was burning and the wine no longer felt good going down. It had long since risen to room temperature and the numbing effect of the alcohol was offset by a nagging case of heartburn and a burgeoning headache.

Bella made her way back to the kitchen, carefully circling the pile of castoffs to avoid tripping on the random items that had been dislodged by Alice's meddling. She returned the half empty bottle of riesling to the fridge and stood with the door open, wishing fresh groceries would magically appear. She had cleared out most of the perishables in anticipation of her weeklong trip. Now she regretted wasting the food for no reason.

Eventually she settled on toast with peanut butter and a glass of water. Bella carried her plate and glass back to her bed, sitting with her shoulders pressed against the wall and her eyes fixed on the world beyond her window. She felt exhausted, not only in body, but in every way. Drained and tattered, she whiled away the hours until daybreak thinking of her mother. Those dog-eared memories usually comforted her, but not today. Today she felt her absence keenly. More than anything, Bella wished she could call her mother on the phone and spill out the whole mad tale to the one person who had always loved and accepted her absolutely without hesitation or judgment.

She tried to imagine what her mother's counsel would be. In the past, when she felt overwhelmed or stressed out, she remembered being pulled in close and hearing, "Give it time, honey. Give it time. Time has a way of showing us the way. From a distance, we see truths and solutions that we can rarely discern in the middle of the storm. Give it time. It will be okay."

Sometimes that advice had been comforting. Sometimes it had frustrated her. She had always been impatient to find a solution, an answer, now! But she couldn't always, and her mother's gentle words and patient ear had often helped her find peace. Peace was nowhere in sight, only emptiness. And apathy, though it had a way of paving a consistent, flat emotional plain, was far from peaceful.

The First Hill neighborhood gradually lightened from black to gray as morning approached. Bella felt worn out and worn thin, like she had been crawling up a steep hill all night long. She nudged her empty plate and glass to one side, curled up on the wrinkled mattress cover and closed her eyes.

She wasn't sure if she slept. If she did it was unlike any sleep she had ever experienced before. Bella existed in a gray and featureless wasteland. Behind her closed lids, she sought to contain and control her thoughts whenever they tried to stray into dangerous territory. She concentrated on the silence of her apartment. When her mind threatened to slip back to painful memories - those bittersweet bites of happiness - she pinched herself to bring her body back to the moment, the now, the quiet, empty room suspended one hundred feet above the asphalt. It was her own sterile, pain-free time-capsule. She lived in the moment and wished it didn't ever have to end.

It was her own body that ruined it. Her body that screamed for relief from the mounting pressure in her bladder. Her body that begged for water to quiet the burning ache in her throat. Her body that nagged quietly at first, then insisted with random stabs of pain through her stomach, that 1 ½ bottles of wine and a single slice of peanut butter-smeared white bread were not sufficient sustenance for a day in the life of a single, 26 year old woman.

She took care of the most pressing issue first. When she reached for the faucet to wash her hands she pulled up short. Her reflection was once again talking to her, and the message was far from pleasant. She cringed away from the new Bella. She looked strung out. Wasted.

With eyes dripping steady streams of self-loathing, she shed her wrinkled clothes, stepped into the tub and started the water. The level rose slowly, swirls of steam dancing around her. She lay back and let the water climb up the sides of her face. She closed her eyes and lay still. Could she let it swallow her? How hard would it be to relax, exhale, and open her airways to the creeping heat? Would it melt the ice in her chest, hot versus cold, cancelling it out and leaving her nothing more than a zero-sum solution?

Some innate instinct, that ferocious animal-like need to grasp life and squeeze every last drop of pain from existence, made her surge up and shut off the faucet. She sat there and shook, drinking the humid air desperately, her own choking sobs vulgar and revolting to her ears.

When the panic dissipated she let muscle memory take over, fingers lathering, scrubbing and rinsing automatically. She allowed her body to keep its momentum, watching dispassionately as the automatem dried, dressed, hydrated and prepared more toast. Already her mind was creating lists and checking boxes, ordering priorities and searching for efficiency solutions.

Buying groceries was near the top of the list, but so was replacing essential wardrobe items. She had purged much of her casual and dressy clothing. Fortunately, Mike's complete lack of interest in her career extended to her professional attire and she had no reservations about keeping most of her suits, blouses, slacks and skirts.

Bella dressed in a simple ensemble of black slacks, white blouse and low-heeled pumps. Remembering her promise to check in with Angela, she placed that call and left a message on her assistant's voicemail letting her know she was back in Seattle and would return to work as planned on the following Tuesday. With that loose end tied, Bella shrugged into her still-damp coat and took the elevator down to the garage to get her car.

The first place she stopped was a coffee shop. Bolstered by caffeine and a breakfast sandwich she moved quickly through her list picking up the staples for her new life. Fancy, sexy clothes were out. She just needed items that were comfortable and serviceable. The same went for her grocery list. She didn't plan to spend much time at home, so she loaded her shopping cart with basics like milk, eggs, cheese, deli meat and pre-washed salad and then bought as many prepared frozen meals as her freezer would hold. On her way home she stopped at a storage facility and purchased a dozen boxes and tape. It took her four trips to get everything into her apartment, but she didn't feel at all tired.

It was almost exhilarating to interr the trappings of her past life in their little cardboard tombs. All the clothes Alice either bought or made for her she set to one side. Bella couldn't in good conscience discard them, but she had no desire to see Alice again this soon. Not yet. Maybe next week.

Her stomach was grumbling fitfully before she was done, but Bella was determined to seal off everything to do with Mike. The afternoon light was waning before the final box was taped shut and stacked along the wall. The only fragment she was still torn about was the ring. At that moment it was languishing in the bottom of a glass on the counter, coated in the sticky dregs of her wine from the night before. She stood in the middle of her living room and turned slowly, taking it all in. She knew immediately that she couldn't just buy new stuff to replace the old. She could never erase the memories she had built with Mike between these walls. They had made love in this very room less than three hours after he placed the ring on her finger. Now, stripped of the evidence of a real life, the space was austere and unwelcoming. It was time for a real change.

With a turkey sandwich and a glass of milk, Bella settled down with her laptop to begin the search for her new apartment. What she found in the first ten minutes was demoralizing. Rents had skyrocketed since she signed the lease for this apartment. Her landlord had never raised her rent so she was unprepared for the realities of the current market. She would have to pay half again as much for a comparable unit!

Her checking account was drained to under a month's expenses. Her savings account was almost as bad thanks to her reckless spending in preparation for her fateful final trip to Chicago. But her other account, the untouchable savings account she had once jokingly referred to as her 'dowry', held almost $16,000. Bella thought of the money she had set aside painstakingly month after month to make the down payment on the condo she and Mike had planned to buy when they got married. Maybe, just maybe she could do it without him.

She only wanted a small place. It didn't even have to be that nice. But the idea of throwing away money on rent every month made her cringe. The only other option would be to move out of the city, but once she added in the cost of a daily commute and parking, any savings on the cost of living would be cancelled out.

She scheduled a pick-up with a truck to collect the boxes of donations, then sent an email inquiry to a local realtor. It wouldn't hurt to explore all of her options before making a decision.

The last task on her Friday to-do list was the hardest by far. As she puzzled over what to say, Bella ran the vacuum, wiped down the counters, dusted the book shelves and straightened her decimated book collection. She brushed her hair, flossed her teeth, filed her nails, and found a dozen other trivial tasks to eat away at the hours.

When 10 o'clock arrived she felt a guilty surge of relief. It was too late to call her dad. She would have to leave that until tomorrow. Oh darn.

* * *

_**A/N:** FYI, I've already received a few suggestions about what Bella should or should not do with the ring. At the present time she is undecided. I can't say I blame her._


	26. But Dad

_Mosaic of a Broken Heart was voted one of the top 5 fics for January in Tarbecca's Fic Dive over at A Different Forest. Thanks, Tarbecca and everyone who voted. Love ya!_

* * *

Bella woke up too early on Saturday morning. She had no reason to be awake. No desire to start moving. Her thoughts kept coming back to her dad. She needed to call him, but she wanted to wait until after 9 o'clock. A call before 9 am on a Saturday screamed 'problem!'. It was important for her to keep their conversation as low key as possible. Out with the facts, on with her life.

When she couldn't justify procrastinating any longer she dialed her dad's number and paced back and forth across her living room, listening to it ring.

"Hey, Bells! How ya doing?" His normally gruff voice was upbeat and she could almost hear his smile over the line.

"Alright, Dad. Pretty good, actually. But I have something I need to t-"

"The big announcement, huh?"

"The what?" Bella froze with her phone pressed firmly against her ear. What was he talking about?

"Christmas? The big news, right? Karen called me yesterday. You know how excited she gets. I mean, I'm not sure I'm old enough to be a grandpa but I'm so happy for you two. We just need to find a way to get that boy back here in Washington!"

"Dad, I'm not pregnant." She used to fantasize about that, but now the thought of being pregnant with Mike's baby was repugnant. She pressed her hand hard against her flat stomach, clenching her shirt with trembling fingers.

"Wait, you're not?"

"No. Definitely not. Is that what Mrs. Stanley told you?" Her hands were shaking. Her whole body was vibrating with anger and disbelief.

"Well, not in so many words. She said Mike called her yesterday and he told her to expect a big announcement at Christmas. He said there were some pretty big changes on the horizon. We kind of connected the dots. . . but wait, if you're not pregnant, what's the big news? Did he get the transfer? That would be perfect. I haven't said anything about it because I wanted to wait until after the wedding when you were all settled in and taken care of, but I think it's about time for me to look at retirement. Pass the torch to the new guard. Maybe just do a bit of security work here and there to keep up with the mortgage."

"Stop. Please. Dad, Mike is staying in Chicago. And I'm staying here. Permanently."

"Bells, I don't think I understand," he said slowly.

"We're calling off the engagement."

"Why would you want to do that? You two are great together. Bella, I know he isn't the smartest or the most driven young man, but he adores you. Anyone can see it. Why, he practically followed you around like a puppy dog until you finally agreed to date him."

"He broke up with me, Dad. Not the other way around."

"Oh. . . Damn. . . Oh, Bella, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? When do you fly in? I'll drive up there and meet you at the airport. We can go to the Aquarium and get ice cream or something. Hang out, just like old times. How does that sound?"

"I wish everyone would stop trying to feed me ice cream. I'm not a little girl."

"I never said you were. That's not-"

"But you think an ice cream cone and a balloon is going to fix this? It's not a scraped knee, Charlie. That asshole cheated on me then waited until I flew halfway across the country and showed up at his apartment to tell me."

All she heard was her father's strained breathing. Somehow his shock infuriated her. He had immediately jumped to conclusions, so quick to place the blame on her doorstep.

"Hello, Charlie. You still there? You were pretty chatty a few minutes ago when you thought I was knocked up. What, so you can't even talk to me now?" She did nothing to hide the outrage she felt.

"Now, hold up there a minute, Bella. I'm trying to process everything. I must say, that's not at all what I was expecting."

"And you think I was expecting it?" she almost yelled into the phone.

"No, no. Of course not. It just changes everything." His voice tapered off, unsure and bewildered.

"No, shit, Charlie. But don't let it get in your way. You don't have to worry about me. There's no need to put your retirement plans on hold. It's not like I can't take care of myself." Her face was flushed and her eyes prickled with a burning, stinging heat.

"Now, wait just a minute there. I never said-" her father stumbled on until she cut him off again.

"You said plenty. More misogynistic bullshit, and from my own father, too! You can't stop working until your daughter is safely handed off to a qualified man for safekeeping. I hear you loud and clear. It figures that you'd be more worried about interruptions to your big retirement plans than the fact that my future has been utterly demolished by my self-centered, cheating, spineless fiance. As if you don't already run away to fish all the time anyway."

"I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it, Charlie. I'm fine."

She hung up the phone and stared angrily out her living room window. That hadn't gone at all as she had expected. In fact, it couldn't have gone worse. Anger at the unfairness of it all boiled inside and she let out a shrill screech of frustration. She slammed her fists into the couch cushions over and over again until her knuckles stung and she was gasping for air.

With one more disgusted cry she kicked the couch, shoved her keys into her pocket and fled the apartment. Her phone sat on the floor ringing until the caller finally gave up.

Once outside, Bella walked and walked, hardly paying attention to her surroundings. When she came up against a red light she folded her arms and waited for the crossing signal. When the light changed she started again, letting the frustration and disillusionment pump through her veins. After all, it had nowhere else to go. No outlet. No vent. It just swirled through her heart and lungs and brain, as much a part of her as her own blood.

She avoided returning to her apartment as long as she could, but just like Thursday night, she couldn't deny the necessity of the basics: food, water, warmth. She hadn't gotten any closer to sorting through her feelings toward Mike, Alice or her Dad, but the physical exertion had calmed her temper somewhat making the dark emotions easier to contain. It was almost noon when she jogged up to her building, sniffling a bit from the constant cold.

There was a UPS driver at the door, buzzing one of the apartments. She glanced over and saw him press the black button beside her unit number.

"Excuse me, is that for 908?"

"Yes it is. Are you Isabella Swan?" he asked looking down at his clipboard and back up at her face.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Do you have ID? I need signature verification."

"I do upstairs. Can you wait a minute?"

"No problem, Ma'am."

Bella glanced over her shoulder as she waited for the elevator. The delivery man was holding a pretty big box, but it didn't appear to be very heavy. She hadn't ordered anything online and curiosity nagged at her all the way up to her unit and back down again. Back in the lobby she showed the man her license and signed for the package.

He hurried back to his waiting truck so he didn't see the look of absolute shock on her face when she saw the sender's name and address.

Edward Masen

2101 East Tanner Street, PH2

Chicago, IL 60611

She sagged against the door frame. What on earth was he doing?


	27. The Final Cut

Bella couldn't decide at first if she wanted to hug the box against her chest or fling it out to the curb. With shuffling, unsure steps, she carried it across the lobby to the elevator. As she waited for the doors to open, she looked at the address label, marveling over the perfectly formed letters and numbers. The hand of an artist. She traced his name with her fingertip and then outlined her own. He had taken the trouble to find her address and overnight the package. Whatever was inside must be important. Or maybe he had wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible.

In the privacy of her apartment, Bella cut carefully though the tape. She paused before opening it. A feeling of helplessness dragged on her arms, making her fingers slow and clumsy. She was reacting yet again. First with Mike, then with Alice and her dad. Now it was Edward whose actions and decisions were pushing her around. She didn't have to open the box. She could send it back or throw it away. Or maybe hide it in the back of her closet until she was strong enough to resist the tidal pull of her memories.

Edward. . . even thinking his name made her heart ache.

Unable to think through the tumult of emotions Bella turned on the TV, hoping to find a distraction or an escape, if only for a few hours. She didn't watch a lot of television, so none of the shows were familiar. She turned to the local news and pulled a fleecy blanket around her shoulders. At first it was a relief to catch glimpses of the city she loved through the varied lenses of local politics, sports and the weather report. When the news anchor turned to heavier topics like the shortage of affordable housing, declining education funding and the rising rates of violent crimes including shootings and sexual assaults, Bella turned it off.

She couldn't escape her life. She couldn't hide from her pain. She felt awfully selfish for a moment. Was it really so bad to want some sympathy and simple understanding from the people closest to her? Couldn't she wallow in her own pain for a few days without being reminded of how much worse off other people were? Just thinking those things in the privacy of her own head made her feel like a bad person.

Bella sat back and stared at the box. Curiosity was a very uncomfortable emotion. It nagged and begged and wheedled. It didn't shut up. Ever. Now that the box was here, in her apartment, she couldn't ignore it. Even if she threw it away the question would always be there, scratching at the back door of her imagination.

What did he send me?

For the first time since the fall out with Edward, Bella asked herself what she wanted. She wanted to hit rewind. She wanted to punch Mike in the nose instead of just walking away. She wanted to hurt him, not even for revenge, but so he would have a clue about how deeply he had damaged her. She wanted to be courageous enough to tell Edward about Mike before he found her ring and assumed the worst. She wanted to maintain some semblance of dignity and not throw herself desperately at Edward the way she had. She wanted him to respect, not loathe her. She wanted to reboot and then take it slow, building something solid and beautiful together like the high-rises he admired so much.

She wanted to take back the angry words that had chased her best friend and her father away. She wanted to accept their invitations for ice cream and company. What did a couple extra pounds hurt? At least one person in the world had claimed to like it. She could probably find another who felt the same way.

All those 'wants' were nothing more than wishful thinking. They were unattainable dreams. Right now she wanted to know what was inside the box. It was more than curiosity driving her. It was a hunger to know and understand Edward Masen a little better. It was a desire to be close to him, even with the angry words and hundreds of miles that stood between them. She couldn't go back in time and have any of the other things she wanted, but she could have this.

Slowly she opened the flaps. She lifted out crumpled wads of packing paper to uncover a random collection of items:

Two packages of custom ground coffee beans - The familiar scent had saturated the packing paper and was already spreading through her apartment. She remembered him offering to send some home with her when she told him how much she loved it.

A compact disk - Porcupine Tree's 'The Incident', the duplicate of the CD he played for her the night he brought her home. The cover showed an outstretched hand reaching for her. Or maybe it was pushing her away, blocking her vision, hiding the face behind it.

Her bra - Hastily discarded on the bathroom floor before their trip to the theater, lost amid damp towels and her own haze of reckless lust. She felt a stab of guilt for the mess she had left behind. The evidence, the damning evidence of their spontaneous, irrational affair, strewn about for him to clean up.

A Ziploc bag - It contained the toiletries and a couple odds and ends she had forgotten in the bathroom and shower stall. Was it only two days ago that he held her in the shower? When he hugged her she had felt completely loved and accepted for the first time since she lost her mother to cancer. How could such perfection evaporate into nothing?

And finally, beneath it all, carefully wrapped in bubble wrap. . . a framed sketch of Tribune Tower, drawn in charcoal from the perspective of a neighboring rooftop. Stately, elegant, illustrated with an astounding eye for detail and a love for the dynamic connection between man and architecture. A promise made, a promise kept.

It felt like closure. For him, at least. His own purging.

It felt like goodbye, or maybe a parting blow.

Bella choked back more tears and looked up at the ceiling until she could control them. She was so tired of crying. With numb fingers and shaking hands, Bella placed everything back in the box and folded the lid shut. By rights it belonged with all the other boxes, sealed and ready for collection. After all, that was the point of purging, right? To flush out everything negative and start fresh. Start over. Begin healing.

Instead, she left the box in the middle of the floor. She couldn't bring herself to erase him, too. If she did, she was afraid there would be nothing left.


	28. Snap Back to Reality

_A/N: Twilly has created an absolutely gorgeous banner for this story. I've posted it on my brand new Google+ Acct. However, like all things to do with the internet, I may have done it wrong. I'm social networking retarded. Maggie Chambers on FB, Margaret Chambers on Google+. No, I don't Tweet because I never have anything interesting to say._

* * *

After the double blows of her conversation with her father and receiving the package from Edward, she was unable to reconnect with her sense of purpose from the day before. Bella sat on the floor and lost herself rewatching the few 'safe' DVDs she had lying around her apartment. They consisted of her favorite childhood cartoons and a handful of old movies. Halfway through Wuthering Heights she shut off the TV and leaned back against the base of the couch. What Catherine and Heathcliff shared was hardly love. It looked more like obsession. It turned her stomach even as it captured her imagination and wrenched tears from her eyes.

Wuthering Heights had been one of her mother's favorite movies. Merle Oberon was beautiful in her grief and desperation, but even more so in the gentle moments when her love for Heathcliff shone brightly. As repellent as their mutually destructive relationship had always been to her, Bella found herself drawing new parallels to her own life. The passion they shared was undiluted, bordering on madness. There was no longer room for 'self'. The thought of losing herself that way in another person rattled her. Is that what had happened with Edward? She knew she had never felt anything so soul-deep between herself and Mike.

So what did she feel for Mike? Once upon a time she had felt fondness, appreciation, gratitude and admiration. Was that love? Whatever it was, it was gone now. She was angry and hurt, regretful and betrayed, but he did not dominate her thoughts. There were reminders of him everywhere she went, but it was already getting easier to distract herself. If she could find another apartment it would be effortless. She couldn't wait to forget him. The truth was, it wasn't Mike's face that invaded her mind at every moment.

On the other hand, she felt so much Edward. Too much. She couldn't put it into words. His absence from her 'now', from her 'tomorrow', cut straight through her chest. Her heart beat out the want, the need, the ever present agony of loss. She couldn't take steps to eradicate him from her life, because wasn't there to begin with. Instead, she felt as if his essence was interwoven with hers. She had let him in, and now, through some strange alchemy, her heart was completely changed and only wanted him.

Bella reopened the box knowing that what she was doing didn't make any sense. Some people would even call it crazy. Her actions were impulsive. . . or maybe compulsory. The impetus did not come from within her. Or did it?

A few minutes later Bella took a step back and tilted her head to one side and then the other. The frame was straight, or so close that her untrained eye couldn't tell otherwise. Her bedroom walls were no longer completely bare. Above her bed hung the charcoal sketch Edward gave her.

He had called it imperfect. From her point of view it was flawless.

* * *

That was the first night she dreamed of Edward Masen. She relived scenes from her trip to Chicago in vivid detail, the sounds and images pounding insistently through her skull. His eyes, winking playfully as his lips turned up into a teasing smirk. His laughter, unrestrained and overflowing with life. His hands, large and strong as they twined with hers, curled around her hip, stroked down her back, tangled in her hair. . . His skin was hot against hers as he moved inside of her, drawing out the essence of her soul and setting it alight. . .

Bella sat up with a start, her body humming on the brink of orgasm.

The jolt of waking up scattered the embers before they could combust. Gasping and whimpering, desperate to reclaim her dream, she curled into a ball, trying to contain the heat. But it faded quickly, so quickly, and the ice returned. She wanted to slip back under, recapture the memory, but she was too wide awake.

Reality closed relentlessly around her. It was only a dream. Just a dream. Nothing more.

* * *

Bella ached from head to toe. She was sore in that burning scalp, itchy skin, tense muscles, stiff joints kind of way that comes from too many nights of poor sleep. After a scalding hot shower and a quick breakfast, she tried to put herself back into the mindset that had made Friday such a productive day. She was excited when she found a reply to her real estate inquiry in her email in-box. If she could get out of the apartment and see some new prospects, the future would look brighter. Or at least different.

Reading through the e-mail, Bella started feeling more hopeful. Laurent Deschamps was a Seattle based real estate agent who specialized in assisting first time home-buyers like her. He included links to his brokerage's home page, testimonials from several past clients and a list of all the apartments and houses he had listed or sold in the last five years. She pored through page after page of information, feeling more comfortable about the idea of buying. When her analytical mind was appeased, she grabbed her phone, deleted the missed alerts without looking at them and called his cell phone.

The man who answered had a soft, mellow voice with the barest hint of a French accent. She was impressed that he was ready with questions to hone in on her timeline, expectations and goals even though she had called him out of the blue early on a Sunday. He asked for permission to pass her information on to a loan specialist and set an appointment to meet in person the following afternoon .

When Bella hung up the phone she was almost smiling. She was pleased that she was taking a step forward. Laurent seemed like the perfect person to work with. In their 30-minute conversation, he had proven to her that he was calm, professional, thorough and capable. When a loan agent called less than 2 hours later to prequalify her and set a price range for her home search she was thrilled. It felt good to take charge. With only herself to consider, the future was so much simpler. If she could keep her thoughts away from Chicago, she could even make it into something great one day.

* * *

For the second night in a row, Bella awoke with her skin blistering and her insides on the verge of exploding. She stumbled from her bedroom to the kitchen and drowned the flames with cold wine straight from the bottle. She set the bottle back on the counter with a thump and pressed her hands flat on the cool surface until they stopped shaking. The dream had felt so real. She could taste him. Smell him. She considered taking the sketch down and packing it away. Its presence on her wall seemed like an invitation for memories of him to haunt her. Hanging it there was pure masochism.

As she considered pulling it off the wall, aftershocks of remembered pleasure rumbled deep in her stomach. No. She wasn't going to take the picture down. If she could she would hang a dozen more. Seeing and feeling him again was worth the pain of waking up alone. Bundled in a blanket with the remains of the riesling, in an actual wine glass this time, Bella curled up on her bed and waited for morning.

Bella filled her Monday with preparations for her return to work the following day. She planned her wardrobe for the week, polished the scuffs from her dress shoes, cleaned the dirt smudges from her coat and vacuumed out her car.

After lunch she showered, fixed her hair and dressed for her meeting with the Realtor. She arrived at his office a few minutes before the scheduled time and waited in the lobby, flipping through real estate magazines filled with designer homes and waterfront condos. If only she was shopping in the million dollar range instead of under $300K.

"Miss Swan?"

She turned around with a genuine smile. "It's Bella. Nice to meet you."

"Bella. Of course."

Laurent was a smooth in person as he was over the phone. He was also very handsome. His shiny black hair was braided in tight rows against his scalp and his eyes were a warm golden brown. His clothes were bold, but somehow perfect on him - tawny gold shirt with a black tie beneath a dark, rust-red suit. He towered over her at over six feet, but his demeanor was so friendly and open that he was not at all intimidating. He clasped her hand with both of his and dipped his head slightly in greeting.

"Come on back. I reserved a conference room so we can talk away from all the noise and commotion. Three of my coworkers are opening escrow tomorrow and everyone is going out of their minds. December is not normally this busy." His accent was even more apparent in person.

"Thanks. That sounds perfect. And thank you for meeting me on such short notice."

"Not at all. Not at all. It's my job, no?" He grinned at her, white teeth flashing against his coffee colored skin as he showed her into a small conference room with a rectangular table and four chairs. "I won't lie to you. If we're capped at three hundred thousand, that's going to really limit your options here in the city. Just remember, you're entering the market today, and in a few years you'll be more established, ready to trade up to something a little bigger, a little nicer. Maybe even sharing the expenses with a partner or spouse. A lot can happen in a few years."

Bella nodded agreement. A lot could happen in just a few days.

"So today, I'm hoping we can get to know each other a little. If I'm going to find the right home for you, and negotiate on your behalf, I want to make sure I know where you are and where you hope home ownership will take you. Also, I'm sure a driven young woman such as yourself wants to evaluate whether I'm the right agent to go to work for you."

"Absolutely. Although, you've already put my mind at ease on a lot of the biggest items. At this point, I'm most concerned about whether I can afford the monthly mortgage payments, PMI, maintenance fees and closing costs. It really seems like a lot of money when you add it all together."

"We'll talk about all of that in detail. You're actually in a fantastic position compared to many first time homebuyers. There are programs available to help you get into a home. If we can get the seller to cover closing costs, we could be looking at a 5% down which is much stronger than many of my past clients. How long have you worked with your current employer?"

"Since before I graduated from college. More than four years. Actually, my boss mentioned I might be looking at a raise, although I don't know what that's going to look like yet. We're talking tomorrow when I return to the office."

"Fantastic. We'll hold off on getting you preapproved until you meet with him, but until then, why don't you tell me a little bit about your lifestyle. Do you own a car? Do you want easy bus access? Do you plan to entertain? What amenities do you look for? Tell me whatever comes to mind."

Bella took a moment to gather her thoughts, then she began to speak. She didn't tell Laurent that she only wanted a stopping place to eat and sleep before returning to work. Instead, she tried to paint a normal picture - friends, weekend get-togethers, active evenings around town. It wasn't too difficult to fake it. She just imagined she was Alice.

He smiled and laughed in all the right places, asked her a few more questions and answered hers, jotting down notes in a crabbed, slanting script. By the end of their meeting, Bella was looking forward to meeting with Emmett the next day. If more responsibility and a pay raise would get her into her own condo instead of renting, she would gladly work 75 hours a week. She wondered, if she was too tired and busy to dream about Edward, would she miss him more? Or would she eventually forget him? If it came to a choice she would rather miss him for all eternity than forget him.


	29. A New Leaf

_A/N: Sorry for the delay in posting. Life (and some other stuff) happened._

* * *

Despite another restless night, Bella arrived at the office before anybody else on Tuesday morning. When her assistant Angela walked in at 7:45 carrying two coffees, Bella had already blitzed through her voicemails and email inbox, deleting the chaff and flagging items for follow up. She had her schedule laid out in fifteen minute increments for the next twelve hours, and tasks stacked back-to-back through the rest of the week. With Christmas only nine days away, it was going to take double the effort to keep all of their projects moving forward. From past experience, she knew that people were notoriously hard to pin down during the holidays.

In her absence, Angela and the other project managers had taken care of the most pressing issues, but she was still going to be working through the backlog for days. Angela set Bella's latte down on her desk and picked up the list of tasks Bella had scribbled out for her, nodding to herself as she read.

"Thanks so much, Angela," Bella said, breathing in the delicious coffee smell.

"No problem. It's good to have you back safely. How are you doing?"

"Good. Real good," Bella replied with an attempt at a confident smile. It was a bit forced and Angela could tell.

"And your Good Samaritan from the airport behaved himself? I saved his phone number and address just in case," she warned, fixing Bella with a seriously look.

Bella sipped her coffee and shrugged with one shoulder. "He was the consummate host. A real gentleman. He even fed and entertained me."

"Entertained you?"

"Yeah. Movies, music, ice skating. It was nice."

"Ice skating?" she asked in a skeptical tone.

"Yep."

"That was kind of going out of his way, wasn't it? Was he cute?"

Bella's insides were quaking. 'Cute' didn't begin to describe Edward. She took another drink from her cup and sidestepped the question. "He was really nice. It was a welcome escape after the drama with Mike. So, have the bids come back on the demo for the 4th Street property?"

Angela looked away for a moment before responding. "Yes. We have a couple of competitive bids. I'm waiting to hear back from Black Dogs. I know you were happy with their work on the SODO demo. Despite their unconventional. . . well, everything."

"One of the owners is an old family friend. But more than that, they're careful and thorough."

"And their high-reach excavator operator is kind of hot," Angela added with a cute smile.

"Well, if they win the bid, we can stop by one day and bring him lunch."

"Really?"

"Sure, why not?"

"You would do that?" Angela asked hesitantly, a blush stealing up her cheeks.

"Just because my love life sucks, it doesn't mean yours has to. Ben's great. You should ask him out."

"I don't know. We kind of come from different sides of the track."

"That doesn't mean anything and you know it. Now, I better hurry up with reviewing this soil survey so we can complete cost projections for the Rivers build."

"Mr. McCarty handed that off to Declan. I forgot to include that in my notes."

"Wait. . . what? I've been on that project since before we acquired the land!" Bella was shocked. She had never had a project taken away from her before. She didn't know what Emmett's reasoning was, but it hurt to think he would do such a thing without telling her first.

Angela shrugged. "He told me as he was leaving the office on Friday. He said you were going to be too busy, so Declan was going to step in and take over. I've already reassigned all the notes and files. Sorry. I thought it would be the least of your worries, you know, with everything else. . ."

"No, it's fine," Bella reassured her. "You did the right thing. I was just a bit surprised. I'm meeting with Mr. McCarty in less than an hour. I'm sure he'll explain everything then. Thanks again for the coffee."

Angela bobbed her head and smiled a bit in reply, taking her cup and list back to her own desk. Bella chewed on the end of her pen, and stared at her computer screen. Dropping any task before it was complete was not easy for her. Walking away from an entire project that she had invested in for months was like wrenching a tooth out without anesthesia. She caught herself reading the next line in the report and huffed. She closed the file and crossed the task off her list, then she took the remaining time she had blocked off to upload and archive all her correspondence that pertained to the Rivers project on the shared drive so Declan could access it.

When her appointment time with Emmett rolled around, she smoothed back her hair and took the elevator up to his office. She wasn't exactly anxious, but she didn't like surprises. There were too many questions swirling around in her head. Emmett's secretary smiled in greeting and shooed her on through to his office. The door was open.

Bella knocked on the door jam and grinned when Emmett jumped in his seat. "You look guilty. Are you playing solitaire or sexting Rose?" she teased.

"Not guilty, just distracted. And even if I was sexting Rose, that's not something to feel guilty about," he joked with a smirk. "Any man would do the same if their wife was as hot as mine."

"I'll tell her said that," Bella giggled as she took a seat across from her boss and close friend.

"So. How was your vacation? How's my man, Mike?"

Bella had practiced her lines on the way into the office. She almost got them out without her voice cracking. Almost, but not quite. "We're not together anymore. He's been seeing somebody else and just worked up the nerve to tell me last week."

Emmett's face froze in disbelief. "That shithead! Mike. . . Mike 'squeaky-clean-hands' Newton? Mike left you. . . for who? Just some other girl? What kind of a worm-brained, motherfucking moron would cheat on you?"

Bella shrugged. Telling Emmett had reopened the wound, making it hard for her to breathe or speak. It wasn't as bad as the initial shock had been, not nearly as painful, but the betrayal still hurt and made her feel sick to her stomach. With effort, she managed to smile at Emmett's reference to Mike's persistent hand-washing habit.

Emmett barrelled on, his normally jovial expression dark and angry. "I don't believe this. I mean, Rose and I always thought you were kind of settling, but you were together, what, like five years! As long as I've known you. Fuck. He is a Grade-A douche bag. Want me to break his leg for you?" Emmett came around his desk, pulled her up out of her seat, and crushed her in a suffocating hug. When she shook her head he continued. "Well, the way I see it, you're better off without him. And now that you're single, I can set you up with one of my buddies. He's way smarter than Mike. Taller, too."

Bella laughed a bit and wiped her eyes, the tears springing up unbidden. Unbidden and unwelcome. She did not want to cry over Mike, but Emmett's unrestrained sympathy was hard to resist. It put cracks in the walls she had erected around her emotions. She had needed those walls shore her up, to get through breaking the bad news.

"Too soon?" he asked, his genuine concern showing clearly on his face.

"No. No, it's fine," Bella smiled, feeling some of the weight lifting off her shoulders as she said it. It wasn't fine yet, but it was getting closer.

"Good. Because I need you."

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere. In fact, the more you give me to do, the better I'll feel."

"You mean that?"

"Of course!"

"Good. Because I'm stepping back for the next six months or so. I'll be working from home most days and I need you to be my eyes and ears on a really big project."

"Oh my gosh. Is something wrong?"

"Not wrong, per se. Rose is pregnant."

Bella gasped. "That's wonderful! Congratulations! How far along is she?"

"Sixteen weeks."

"Wait. . . Sixteen weeks. . . that's almost four months. I had no idea! She doesn't look like she's pregnant at all!"

"She's starting to show a little. The thing is, we had a bit of a scare last week. We haven't spoken about it to anyone outside the family, but Rose has had two miscarriages. We were waiting until she was safely into the second trimester before announcing that she's pregnant. Last Monday, we finally decided it was probably safe to tell everyone, and then she went into premature labor. We spent all day Tuesday and Wednesday at the hospital getting things back under control. She's home now, but she'll be on bed rest until the baby's due. She's already going crazy. You know how she is. In fact, she's been begging me to tell you to come by if you have time after work."

"Absolutely! Of course I will!" Bella ached for them. She had known for years that Rose desperately wanted kids, but had no idea she had ever been pregnant, let alone lost a baby. Her friends' challenges made her affairs of the heart seem insignificant by comparison. "Is there anything she wants? Is she having cravings? Or, I don't know, does she want some new movies or magazines?"

"Don't get me started on cravings. I'll let _her _tell you what she does or does not want. I think half the time she loves me and the rest of the time she wants my head on a pike. PMS has _nothing _on pregnancy mood swings," Emmett said, laughing. "But really, I think she just needs somebody to talk to." He paused, then tacked on, "Who isn't a man."

"I'll consider myself warned," Bella grinned. "So, what is this project that you kicked me off of Rivers for? And why me, not one of the senior project managers?"

"Time, for one thing. And energy. You're going to be working some long hours. Maddox is up to his ears in paperwork with that lawsuit, Declan can't travel because of his vertigo, Kate is going back to school in the fall, and Reggie is old and slow. I love him to death, but that's just the way it is. Besides, I like working with you. This is going to be a multi-stage endeavour. I know you're ambitious, and you're in it for the long haul. You're fucking brilliant with contracts and you already know who's who and what's what with the city council, zoning committee and county. Besides, even if you don't stay with McCarty forever, this will be a huge project to add to your resume. It's a win win."

Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the praise, Bella tried to downplay her suitability for the role.

"Stop with the humility. You don't even know what you're going to be doing yet. Sit down and I'll give you the bare-bones run down." He settled against the edge of his desk facing her. "And before you object to anything else I have to say, you are not going to be alone on this. I may not be in the office every day, but I'm only a phone call away. And you're going to have a partner in crime, too."

"Should I be taking notes?"

"Bella, relax. Put the pencil down. This is all an intro right now. So, we've all been observing the trends. Heck, we've been a part of them. Building up, building closer in, this massive contraction phase. Commuting sucks and it's only getting worse. The millennials don't want the house in the suburbs anyway. They want the city life. Just look at Bellevue. If you took a snapshot of the city center from 30 years ago, and another today, you wouldn't recognize the place. But it's not gonna last. We're gonna reach a tipping point and urban construction is going to drop off sharply. My dad was at the helm last time that happened. I remember friends I had known my whole life disappearing. The company couldn't keep them. Couldn't justify it. I'm not going to put myself in that position. I can't fire my friends, I don't care how bad it gets. So, we're starting a new branch here at McCarty Commercial Partners. We won't just be building to sell. It's time we developed our own portfolio of commercial and residential buildings. The revenue from leases and other property management is going to keep us strong when the current market trends turn a corner."

"Let me make sure I understand this, we're going to become property managers? None of us know anything about that, least of all me." Bella did her best to tone down her skepticism.

"It's more than that. We'll still be working all of our current contracts, but we're also going to keep an eye out for properties that can use a facelift. That will get us into the game sooner and for less money. I also want you to be scouting for parcels that other companies have overlooked or written off because of build challenges."

"Are we going to have our own architect on retainer?" she asked facetiously.

"You could say that."

"That sounds expensive. And what about these 'facelifts', as you call them? I wouldn't know the first thing to look for. I'm not an interior or exterior designer. I know processes. I know construction schedules and permitting. Emmett, I know you have a lot of confidence in me, but I don't think I'm comfortable being in charge of something when I have such limited knowledge and experience."

"And that is the beauty of partnerships. You remember me mentioning my friend from college? Well, his mom is one of the founders and owners of Platt and Beckonridge, a leading architectural design firm in Chicago. They're already doing exactly what we've been talking about. However, the opportunities for growth in Seattle are much greater than Chicago. They've got the architects, designers and property management experience, and we've got the development and construction thing down, not to mention the local connections and pretty deep pockets. Like I said, Bella, you're not going to be alone. But I do think you're going to be the glue that holds it all together." Emmett crossed his arms and grinned down at her, his blue eyes glinting. "I need you, Bella. Are you in?"

She clenched her hands in her lap to stop them from shaking. What Emmett was proposing was a huge shift for the company. At first, her own thoughts were swallowed up by doubt. However, Emmett's enthusiasm was contagious. Her mind was zooming down a thousand different paths with questions and possibilities popping up like mushrooms everywhere. Gradually, her hands stopped shaking and the excitement started to build inside her chest. This was going to be huge and she was going to be a part of it!

She had whispers of misgivings when she heard 'Chicago' and 'architect', but she brushed them aside. Edward had called himself a gopher, the most junior architect on his team. The likelihood of him working for Emmett's friend's company were slim. It was even less probable that any company would assign such a low ranking employee to a project of this magnitude. Few people were as open-minded or as impervious to fear as Emmett McCarty. This promotion was a one-of-a-kind opportunity and it was being offered to _her_!

Emmett's dimple deepened when he saw her smile. "I knew it. Perfect. Esme Platt is flying in tonight. Make sure your morning is open tomorrow."

Bella's eye opened wide. "Wait. . . Esme Platt, as in the company owner and founder? I'm going to be working with her?" Her voice rose into a squeak at the end.

"Relax, Bella. You're gonna love her. And she's gonna love you, too."

Bella swallowed and nodded. She wondered if her navy suit was clean. . .

"I have to run now. Don't forget to give Rose a call."

"I will. Thanks, Emmett. I have no idea what I've just signed up for, but you know I will always do my best."

He scoffed, "Why do you think I chose you? Come here." He pulled her in for another bear hug then pushed her toward the door. "It's great to have you back, kid. Don't forget, 8 o'clock tomorrow. Ask Angela to order breakfast."

"Will do, boss," Bella grinned. She was going to be in way over her head, but the challenge was exhilarating. This project was exactly what she needed to drown out all the drama with Mike and Edward.

"Oh, and Mandy has your new contract," Emmett called through the open door behind her.

Bella tripped to a stop and looked at Emmett's secretary in surprise. She hadn't stopped to think about the HR side of things. Mandy handed her a thick manila envelope.

"If you have any questions or changes, e-mail me, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed automatically. Lost in thought, she headed down to her office. Back in her comfy desk chair, she pulled the contract out and read through her new job description. It was couched in legal jargon but was otherwise exactly what Emmett had described. When she reached the compensation plan, the pages cascaded from her shaking fingers. Affording her own condominium was no longer going to be such a challenge.

* * *

_A/N: One other thing, this is a WIP and so am I. With that said. . . If you are reading and entertained, I am glad._


	30. The Confessional

_I haven't had a chance to respond to reviews this last few weeks, but I read everyone and appreciate your feedback so much. Thanks a ton!_

* * *

Once the had shock faded, Bella decided to approach her new position as she would if she were a brand new employee. It was too confusing to blend what she understand about the company and her role yesterday with her assumptions about the future. Beginning with the new job description, she pieced together a plan for the coming weeks along with several pages of questions. Some of them would be answered in the natural course of things. Others needed to be resolved immediately before she was paired up with an accomplished woman like Esme Platt. She didn't want her youth or inexperience to reflect badly on Emmett or the company.

After her thoughts had settled down somewhat, she called Angela into her office and together they determined which projects she would see through to the end, and which would be better served by being handed over to one of the others. Every hand off felt like she was offering a child of her heart up for adoption. She realized as the day progressed that her emotional connection to her work was far easier to process than her relationships with other people.

By the time they closed down their computers and packed up for the night, both women were exhausted. Angela pulled out her keys to lock up. On the elevator ride down to the lobby, Bella turned to her assistant and said, "I'm not giving you up, you know."

"I wasn't going to ask, but I was curious."

"That's the only thing I asked Mr. McCarty to add to my new contract. I get to keep you." She nudged Angela with her elbow and grinned.

"That's good. I'm glad. Somebody's got to be there to take care of you when you insist on working until 9 pm."

"Hey, it's only 6:30," Bella objected.

"And it's only Tuesday," Angela said knowingly.

"Fine. But seriously, thanks for keeping things together while I was gone and everything you did today. I depend on you more than you know." On impulse, Bella hugged Angela. "You're the best, Ange." Angela seemed surprised by the uncharacteristic display of affection, but she returned the embrace enthusiastically. Who knew that a friendly hug could erase so much fatigue?

They split up in the lobby, Angela taking the other elevator down to the parking garage and Bella headed outside, walking the five blocks back to her apartment at a brisk pace. She called Rosalie as she walked, confirming that her friend was up for visitors. Rosalie's insistence that she "get her skinny ass over here and bring something with red meat in it!" was met with laughter. Her own stomach was growling so she braved the crowd of college kids at Dick's to order hamburgers, fries and shakes on her drive out to the McCarty's Ballard condo. Rosalie buzzed her in immediately and she raced up the stairs to the third floor, knocked and let herself in.

She found Rosalie in the spacious living room, ensconced in Emmett's favorite recliner. The TV was playing Wheel of Fortune on mute, there were magazines strewn about, and she had a mini refreshments station set up within arm's reach with water, juice and crackers.

To her eyes, one week had made a huge difference in Rosalie's appearance. Before her trip to Chicago, she had met Rosalie for coffee and noticed that she was looking a bit piqued. Rosalie had waved it off as a mild cold or flu. Today, her normally glossy hair was unbrushed, she was pale as a ghost, and, now that she was looking for it, Bella could identify the changes to her already curvaceous figure. Rosalie laughed when she saw Bella's eyes bugging out.

"Yeah, I know. My boobs are getting huge. It's insane! But, of course, irony of all ironies, we can't even enjoy them."

Bella didn't know much about pregnancy and childbirth, but she was pretty certain that bed rest meant no sex. She wondered briefly if that would have any impact on Emmett's upbeat, cheerful attitude.

"Well, you can still use your tastebuds, right?" Bella asked, holding out a paper bag with grease stains already starting to show through.

"God, yes! Emmett was going to bring me dinner but he got rear ended leaving one of the job sites and had to wait for the police to show up and file the report." She dug into the bag and shoved a bunch of fries into her mouth, moaning blissfully.

"Is he okay?"

Rosalie waved off her concern, intent on unwrapping her hamburger.

"Wow. You must have been starving." Bella sat down gingerly on the couch and pulled out her own food, eating at a slightly more sedate pace.

"I was. I'm so nauseated in the morning that I can barely choke down a pretzel stick without gagging, and it doesn't let up until evening. Then I'm so hungry I could eat an Emmett-sized portion without blinking. And I'm craving steak and hamburgers, which is crazy because I don't even like red meat."

"It must be the iron."

"Hmmph," Rosalie nodded with her mouth chomping into her hamburger.

Bella looked on in fascination. It was almost like watching a wild animal in its natural habitat. Rosalie was the most poised and controlled person she knew. The transformation into rabid carnivore was awe-inspiring. Eventually, the carnage slowed and Rosalie leaned back with a contented sigh.

She had color in her cheeks again as she patted her slightly rounded belly. "Happy now, little monster?" she cooed.

Bella almost expected her belly to move or respond in some way.

"Thank you, Bella. You're a life saver. So tell me, any big plans now that you're single?"

She froze with a fry hovering halfway between her lap and her open mouth. "Emmett told you. . ."

"Of course he did. He was concerned for you."

"And?"

"I told him not to be. You're better off without Mike. You need somebody who is proud of you and wants to see you accomplish great things, not a guy who is going to tangle you up with guilt trips and double standards."

"I don't understand. If you felt that way about Mike, why didn't you ever say something? My dad compared him to a puppy dog, Emmett called him a douchebag and you obviously didn't think he was all that great. Why didn't anyone say anything sooner?"

"What did Alice have to say?"

Bella thought guiltily of the way she had responded to her best friend's attempt to help. "She didn't say anything about him. She offered to help me clean my apartment and I pretty much called her a meddling slut." Bella pushed the remains of her dinner away, her stomach lurching beneath her ribs.

"Ouch. Why would you do that?"

"I don't know," she replied. "I guess I was afraid. And embarrassed. What if everyone is wrong? What if I wasn't the one who was just settling? Even Mike seemed to think what we had was no big deal, that we were just stuck in a rut. He seemed to really like the other girl. I mean, _really _like her. The way he was talking with her, the way he acted around her, I barely recognized him."

"Whoa. Let's not let him off the hook here. Regardless of whether or not you guys were a good match, what he did was cowardly and cruel. He deserves to have his balls crushed."

"Are you volunteering?" Bella asked with a watery chuckle.

"If it weren't for my baby-growing duties, you know I would. So what are you going to do about Alice?"

"Apologize. I don't know what else to do. I love her like a sister and I want to make it up to her but I don't know where to start."

"You could always take her up on her offer to help clean your apartment."

"I already finished that. As soon as I find a place, I'm moving. I want to buy my own condo. Somewhere nicer, hopefully."

"So enlist her help with house hunting. You know she loves shopping. House hunting is like shopping on steroids."

Bella nodded as she considered her friend's suggestion. It was the perfect solution.

"I need to apologize to my dad, too. I accused him of trying to pass me off to the first willing man to save himself the hassle of worrying about me."

Rosalie didn't censor herself at all when she responded. "That was a shitty thing to say. I've only met your dad twice, but it's obvious to anyone with functional eyeballs that he would build a ladder to the moon for you. What possessed you to say something like that to him?"

Her defensive instincts kicked in, but Bella tamped them down. Talking to Rosalie was almost like talking to a religious figure. There wasn't anything particularly holy about her, but she had an unvarnished, unbiased way of looking at like that made it easier to acknowledge her own flaws and find ways to grow from them. She fidgeted with her fingers, still unused to the bare spot her her left hand.

All at once, the words started spilling out. She started at the end, confessing her fears of her own unloveable nature, stunted emotions and self-centered personality. She shared her anger about how Alice and her father hadn't known her well enough to sense her turmoil and give her the sympathy and understanding she craved. She rattled off all the ways Mike's lies and cheating had made her question her own desirability and worth as a woman and a partner. And then she slipped. . . she mentioned Edward's name.

"Wait. Stop right there. Who?"

"I. . ." She wanted to rewind and edit her last statement. "_I would have come home believing I was completely undesirable if it weren't for Edward. . ._"

"Who is Edward?"

"Just some guy I met at O'Hare on my way home."

"Just some guy. . ." she said, her eyes shrewdly evaluating Bella's face. "He told you he found you desirable?"

"Sort of. Yeah. Look, I don't really feel like talking about this."

"Too bad. I do, and it's your job to humor me. For the baby."

Bella couldn't help herself. She smiled. Rosalie was not above playing any card in her hand however she saw fit. "Okay, fine. For the baby," she agreed.

"So, Edward sounds like kind of an old-fashioned name. You got hit on by a fugly old semi-retired TSA agent?"

"Um, no. Just another traveler. And he wasn't that old. A couple years older than me, maybe." Bella blushed as she remembered Edward approaching her by the ATM. She had been so preoccupied at the time that she hadn't recognized just how good looking he was. Her heart thumped in her chest, shedding its icy shell in a flurry of snowflakes.

"Oh. I see. Not fugly either, huh?"

"Um, no. Not really. Actually he was pretty breath taking."

"Aha," Rose smirked. "Tell me more."

Little by little the whole story spilled out. At first, Bella tried to censor the more steamy details, but anything she didn't say with words was painted on her face. Her cheeks were red, her eyes were bright and she couldn't contain the emotions that spilled out with the memories. The humor, the awe, the raw, overpowering attraction. As she spoke, Rosalie settled back in her chair, occasionally asking a question or prodding Bella for more details about something Edward had said or done.

When Bella came to the part where everything collapsed, she stopped talking and hung her head, the tears already seeping out from behind her tightly shut lids.

"You didn't tell him about Mike, did you?" Rosalie's voice was soft and searching.

Bella shook her head, unable to speak.

"So what happened?"

"He. . . he found my ring. I had it in my coat pocket all along. I hadn't decided what to do with it yet, but I couldn't stand the thought of wearing it after Mike. . . well, you know."

"That's fucked up. . ."

"Yeah," Bella agreed morosely. Her pain returned in a flood and she drew in a deep breath to fight the tide that crushed her chest and threatened to drown her.

"I'll bet he was pissed."

"Ha, ha. Pissed. That's the understatement of the year. He accused me of playing him from the start. He called me a bitch and a wh-. . . a whore," she finished with a gasp. Bella pulled her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms tightly around her legs.

"That idiot," Rosalie gasped.

"No, it's okay. I mean, I get how it probably looked to him."

"No, it is not okay. You two had a connection. When you were telling me about him, your face lit up like a Christmas tree, and that wasn't even when you were talking about the sex. When you got to the good stuff, I was afraid the air around you would burst into flames. It was that hot. Don't give him a free pass just because you feel guilty. You fucked up, but it sounds like he did, too. Why don't you call him and talk it out?"

"I really don't think that's a good idea."

"Why not? You've both had a bit of time to cool off. What's the worst that can happen?"

"Rosalie, I'm not like you. I don't have nerves of steel. I can't face down all the shit life throws at me and throw it right back. I'm not that strong."

"You think I'm strong? You didn't see me curled up on the floor crying for days the first time I realized I was had experienced a miscarriage. You didn't wake me up night after night as I shook and cried after I lost the second one. And you weren't there with me in the hospital last week when they had to sedate me because I was freaking out so badly they thought my panic would reverse all the good the drugs were doing to stop the contractions. Bella, Emmett is my best friend and my strength. Without him, I wouldn't be half the person I am. None of us were made to be alone. Don't push your friends away. And don't give up on this Edward guy. He sounds like he could be the one."

Bella had to look away. He was the one, but he was gone. It was her fault. If she could go back and change things, she would, but the fact was, there was nothing she could do about it. A phone call wouldn't change anything. Rose hadn't heard how cold and lifeless his voice became when he told her he was glad she was leaving. Rose didn't receive a box filled with cryptic and contradictory messages days after experiencing the best, and the worst, nights of her life.

"Bella, trust me. Call him."

"Maybe. I'll. . . I'll think about it."

"Don't think too long. Sometimes life has a way of stepping in and taking the reins if we don't take care of things ourselves. Remember what happened with the ring."

"I'll think about it," she repeated, knowing even as she said it that her mind was made up. Besides, she had far more positive things to think about with work. It was late and she had a life-changing meeting to look forward to in the morning. She cleaned up their food wrappers and was saying good-bye just as Emmett came in the front door.

"Hey, babe. I'm so, so sorry," he said as he gave his wife a kiss in greeting.

"It's okay. Bella and I had lots to talk about."

Emmett looked back and forth between them, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes as he took in Bella's puffy, tear-stained face. "Well, any time you want me to make tracks so you two can have some girl time, let me know."

"Thanks, Emmett," Bella said. "I feel way better now, and I can't wait to meet Mrs. Platt tomorrow."

"It's actually Mrs. Cullen, but most people just call her Esme. Platt is her maiden name. She only kept it for business. Oh, and make sure you bring a notepad and your appetite."

"Sure thing, boss," she replied and let herself out. Emmett and Rosalie were already lost in an intimate, whispered conversation before the door closed behind her.

* * *

_A/N: I want a Rosalie. I have some pretty cool friends, but she's the coolest. IMO :)  
_


	31. Connect the Dots

**A/N: I've spent ten times as much time editing this thing as writing it. It's still. . . just. . . grrr. . . oh well. Sometimes you just have to post it, right? Thanks for your patience!**

* * *

Her talk with Rosalie had dredged up details she felt were better left lying at the bottom, their lines and colors muted and clouded beneath layers of silt. Bella drove home in a state of dread, certain that memories of Edward Masen would hijack her dreams again, even more powerful than before. She was physically exhausted, but her mind buzzed with the push-pull conflict of fear and anticipation.

When she climbed into bed, she pulled the covers tightly around her shoulders. If she was going to dream of Edward, maybe being swathed in layers of fabric would prevent her subconscious from recreating every painfully erotic memory. Maybe she could actually rest and recharge before her big meeting.

Even through the fog of sleep, she registered surprise when Edward appeared that night. He was different. He didn't reach for her the way he had in her previous dreams. This wasn't a replay of a memory. It was something entirely new.

Her dream Edward sat on the end of her bed and watched her, his expression sad and lost. Bella returned his stare cautiously, unsure of what to expect. He wasn't taking the lead any more. He was waiting. . . for what she didn't know.

Bella slipped one arm out from within the covers and reached for him. His hand closed around hers, cold but strong. She whispered, "I'm sorry" to the phantom image, but maybe he heard "goodbye", because his image began to fade as she slipped deeper than her dreams.

When she woke up the next day, fuzzy images from her dream lingered at the edge of her vision. Even though he was no longer physically with her, she was certain that Edward would stay with her forever, a tattoo on her heart. Hidden from the world, but indelible and unchanging.

* * *

Bella was typing furiously when Angela knocked on her office door and peeked her head in. "You have a visitor," she said in a sing song voice, then stepped aside as a large figure filled the doorway.

"Jacob! I haven't seen you forever. Come on in!" Bella scooted her chair back and jumped up to give her childhood friend a hug. "I was not expecting a visit from you. What's the occasion?" She looked up and down his 6'5" frame, noting the uncharacteristic cleanliness of his jeans, shoes and shirt.

Their paths didn't cross very frequently, although she had gone out of her way to push business toward Black Dogs since she started working at McCarty. Jacob and his friend Sam had started the company right after high school with a loan from his uncle, two shovels, a sledge hammer, a wheelbarrow and a single refurbished backhoe. Now they employed two teams and were equipped to demo everything from residential tear-downs to 10-story buildings.

"Oh, I'm meeting somebody for coffee and I got to town a bit early. I figured I would drop off the quote you requested in person."

"Conserving the environment by cutting down on email traffic?" she teased with a grin.

"Sure. Something like that." He looked around appreciatively. "Nice office. I don't think I've ever been up here."

"No, you're normally playing in the mud. Just like when we were kids."

"Some things never change," he grinned.

"So, this coffee date. . . does she have a name?"

"What? Oh, um, yeah. Her name is Carlie."

"Carlie, as in 'Accounts Payable' Carlie?"

"Um, yeah," he acknowledged bashfully, a blush turning his normally bronze skin a ruddy hue. "She included a personal note in the last paid invoice, asking me to coffee next time I was in the city. I figured, why not? She's always been so sweet when we talked on the phone."

"She _is _sweet. I think you'll hit it off." Despite her initial surprise, the more she thought about it, the better it sounded. On the surface they were complete opposites. Jacob was the tallest man she knew, and years of heavy demolition work had built up layers of hardened muscles. Carlie was barely over five feet tall, with doll-like features and strawberry blonde hair that hung in ringlets around her face and shoulders. She was timid and shy, with a loveable nature and a heart of gold. Jacob was physically intimidating, but Bella recalled many incidents from their childhood that showed how nurturing and protective he really was.

Even her own tumultuous feelings couldn't dim her excitement for Jacob. "I would love to stay and catch up, but I have to get upstairs for a meeting with the boss. I'm actually running a couple minutes late. Good luck with your date. Make sure you check in later and tell me how it went."

"I will. Maybe we could do lunch. It's been forever since we've seen each other. I'm sure your dad misses you, too."

Bella paused with her hand on the edge of her desk. "You've talked to Charlie?"

"I saw him on Sunday. He was picking my dad up to go fishing. He didn't say as much, but I'm pretty sure he wishes we would all visit more. The peninsula doesn't keep its kids very well. We grow up and move away as soon as we can. Greener pastures. Well, not exactly _greener_, but you know."

"Yeah, I know," she smiled wistfully. "I need to call him. I'll tell you next time I plan to head over there. Maybe we could carpool since I'll be passing through Lacey anyway."

"Conserving the environment. Sure. Sounds great." He grinned down at her, all white teeth and easy-going fun. He hadn't really changed. He was the same Jacob she grew up with, just bigger. Their friendship was yet another casualty of her relationship with Mike. Mike had been even less comfortable with her having male friends than he had been with her pursuing a career.

Bella left Jacob and Angela chatting outside her office and hurried to the elevator. It was five minutes to eight. Her stomach growled fitfully but she was too nervous to feel hungry. She wondered what Esme Platt-Cullen would be like. She thought of different iconic female entrepreneurs - Martha Stewart, Oprah Winfrey, Arianna Huffington - and wondered if Esme's personality would resemble any of them.

Mandy greeted her and waved her on through to Emmett's office when she stepped out of the elevator. He was standing in the middle of the room with his arms crossed, staring moodily at the platters of food that sat on the small, round table in the corner.

"What's wrong?" she asked as she set her notepad and pen down and settled into one of the armchairs.

"Esme is running late. I'm dying here. My office smells like bacon and I can't even eat it."

"Aww. Being the host sure is hard. Tell me about Esme. It'll take your mind off your stomach."

He pursed his lips for a moment then dragged his eyes away from the food and took a seat beside her. The chair creaked beneath his muscular frame. "I have no idea how to describe Esme. It's probably best if you draw your own conclusions. I mean, she's just a super awesome person. She's really calm on the outside, but when she gets excited about something she bubbles over. Actually, she's more like one of the those old-school whistling tea kettles when she's amped about something. It's hilarious. She's super understanding and accepting, unless someone she loves is threatened, then you better watch out. She and Carlisle are the coolest couple. You can talk about anything around them. Nothing shocks them. But they're both really refined, too. See? I'm probably just confusing you with all these contradictions. It'll make sense when she gets here."

Listening to Emmet talk about Esme made her smile. His admiration and affection were obvious. When he spoke about his mother and father, there always seemed to be a degree of formality and stiffness beneath his words. He loved and respected them, but didn't necessarily relate to them. It was apparent that, emotionally at least, he was closer to Esme and Carlisle Cullen than he was to his own parents.

Bella and Emmett jumped out of their seats when Mandy came to the door leading a beautiful, middle-aged woman. Her pale brown hair was pulled into a loose bun, and wisps of hair escaped to float around her face. She looked like somebody who laughed often. It was obvious in the lines around her eyes and mouth. Emmett immediately enveloped her in a hug, picking the petite woman up and twirling her around.

She laughed and swatted his shoulder when he set her back down. "Cut that out. Just because you're as big as a bear, it doesn't mean you should act like a wild animal."

"Yes, ma'am," he smirked.

"And this must be Isabella Swan," Esme continued, holding out both hands to clasp Bella's.

"Just Bella. It's nice to meet you, Mrs. Cullen. I'm looking forward to learning everything there is to learn about these new projects."

"Please just call me Esme. Mrs. Cullen sounds so old," she drawled with a wink. "Oh, Emmett. It smells delicious in here. Tell me you didn't wait for me."

"Of course I did," he shot back in a mock-offended tone. "I have manners."

"Of a sort. Get a plate. Eat something. I can hear you stomach growling."

Emmett burst out laughing as Bella blushed a brilliant red. "That's not me!"

"I normally eat a bit earlier than this," she confessed.

"Well, I say there is nothing wrong with a healthy appetite, dear. Emmett, lead the way."

He handed plates to both of them, served them both, then loaded his own plate and sat down at the table. "No shop talk until after the first round. House rules."

"House rules," Esme agreed.

Bella picked at her food, looking back and forth between Emmett and Esme. There was a family vibe between them, like she was his aunt or older sister. Emmett inhaled his first serving then went back for more. When he sat down again, he eyed Bella's plate disapprovingly, so she started eating faster.

"Emmett takes it as a personal affront if you can still fill your lungs after eating at his table." Esme spoke in a stage whisper, even cupping her hands around her mouth as if that would make her words inaudible to Emmett.

"Yeah, I've noticed that about him. He's touchy about food."

"I'm not touchy, but I can't bear to see good food go to waste. And you can't think on an empty stomach. We're about to launch into a power session, a real mastermind gathering. That requires fuel. Topping off is not only allowed. It's _mandatory_." Emmett gave them both stern looks until they complied.

Esme lifted a cream-cheese slathered bagel to her lips and gave Bella a cheeky wink. She laughed along with the older woman and finally relaxed enough to swallow her food.

Bella and Esme chatted between bites, gradually getting to know a little bit about each other. When Esme asked, Bella confessed that she had very few hobbies. She was single-minded about her career and gave very little thought to other pursuits. Usually she rolled with whatever plans Alice put together for them: plus one at a wedding, opening night at the new jazz club, hiking down to the base of Snoqualmie Falls. Alice always had something different to suggest and Bella willingly went along. It had never occurred to her to develop her own independent pursuits.

Esme was the opposite. She had a full calendar with book clubs, events to support Carlisle's hospital, fundraisers for the local school district, concerts and musicals and a dozen other pursuits. Commercial and residential design were her passions, but she saw beauty and possibility all around her.

Bella realized she was quickly falling in love with this vibrant, accomplished woman. For the first time since her mother had passed away, Bella felt the bloom of filial affection. She could easily see why Emmett doted on his friend's mother, refilling her coffee and water, then clearing her plate, even though she was more than capable of doing it all on her own. Esme Cullen nee Platt was easy to love because she poured out genuine interest and acceptance as if they cost her nothing. Bella basked in the glow that hung around their intimate breakfast.

When they were ready to shift gears, Emmett positioned a comfortable chair in the path of the meager winter sun that angled through the eastern window and dragged a side table over for Esme to place her drinks on.

Bella returned to her original seat, pulled out her list of questions and got ready to take notes. Emmett looked over her shoulder as he passed behind her and gave her a satisfied smile. "That's exactly what I was talking about. You're going to be great at this. Better than me. Let's get this tank rolling!"

He pulled his desk chair out from behind his desk and got right down to business, recapping the goals and vision for the venture for Bella's sake. Every so often he paused to let Esme fill in something from her side. Esme's comments were always delivered in a calm, direct manner, but her excitement seeped through in the motion of her hands, the brightness of her eyes and the eager way she nodded her head along to Emmett's points.

After two hours, they had only scraped the surface of all the planning they would have to do. Bella was building a team in her head, trying to think of who Emmett might move over with her and Angela, or what new positions they would need to create.

Their first project was already lined up. Emmett was pulling the plugs on the sale of their 4th Street development. The buyer's financing had been shaky from the start, so he had decided to remove the ambiguity and take back the reins. Bella and Esme were going to go back through the building plans and permits to see what was necessary to convert it to a mixed used building.

The street front would be retail space, and they would be renting out apartments instead of selling condos. Bella hadn't looked at Jacob's quote for the demo of the current structure, but she was almost certain Black Dogs would win the bid. They didn't have a shadowy corporate overlord in another state or country scraping 20% off the top of every job.

"I'll see how soon we can get the necessary paperwork through to clear the lot. Who should I talk to about updating the design plans? Did you send this job to your pet architect? If we can finalize these plans before the end of January, we could break ground this spring," Bella said, reaching for her water glass.

"I'll talk to Edward this afternoon. He's taking the next two weeks off, but I'm sure he'll be excited to see this project moving forward so quickly. He'll work with you to incorporate the new specs."

Bella's eyes bugged out and she choked on her water. Emmett started pounding on her back, while Esme offered her napkins and patted her on the knee as she fought to expel the water and pull air into her burning lungs.

_Edward? Surely there must be another Edward. . . _

The pieces almost fit, but not quite. His dad was a doctor. . . so was Esme's husband. His friend in Seattle drank the same kind of beer as Emmett. His meeting last week was canceled because of a family emergency, and Emmett was in the hospital with Rosalie those same days. It must be a coincidence. It had to be. . . But if it was him, why didn't he have the same name? Did Esme have a son from a previous marriage?

Bella choked and wheezed through the crushing pain in her chest. Her vision wavered, watery and gray. Emmett crouched down in front of her, concern etching deep lines between his eyebrows and across his forehead.

"You okay, Bella?"

"Yes. . . Yes. I'm sorry. It went down the wrong tube," she rasped out.

"Oh, darling, you scared me. I hate that feeling. Just relax. Catch your breath," Esme spoke in a patient, soothing tone.

"It's okay. I'm okay." She cleared her throat and asked _the _question. The _only _question that mattered. "So, um, who is Edward?"

"Emmett, you've never introduced her to Edward? I don't believe it. Edward's my son and a brilliant architect, if I can say that without sounding too much like a proud mommy. Emmett and Edward met at business school several years ago and, along with Edward's roommate Jasper, they were like the three amigos."

"Don't you mean the three musketeers?"

"Hush, Emmett. She asked me." She winked at Bella as if they were conspirators sharing a secret.

Bella experienced a flash of several images, each one a snapshot of Edward winking at her with that same playful air. There wasn't much of a physical resemblance, but the sweet, easy-going, approachable attitude was exactly the same. Bella's stomach dropped and she curled her hands around her knees to steady them. Emmett was watching her face so intensely that she had to _look away._

_What is he thinking? Oh my God. . . Rosalie. . . Has she figured it out? Did she tell Emmett what I told her last night?_

Panic rose up and crushed her throat in a vice. Her voice came out in a wheezing whisper, "I knew Emmett was friends with your son, but I don't believe we've been introduced. Does he come to Seattle often?" _Please say no. Please say no._

"Every couple months. I can't believe we've never thought to invite you over when he was here. You two are completely different, but you know what they say about opposites. He was supposed to be in that seat last week, but with Rosie and the baby, we all decided it was best to place first things first," Emmett explained. He turned to Esme and asked, "How's he doing? He didn't say much when he called me on Friday. Just that something had cropped up unexpectedly with another project and that he needed a few weeks to get things under control."

"Who knows? He hasn't been talking to me. Maybe it's something to do with a commission," Esme shrugged. "You know how being trapped in his studio drawing all day and night makes him moody. I stopped by on Sunday evening because he didn't come over for brunch like he normally does. He was playing the piano." She gave Emmett a significant look.

Drawing. Piano. A friend named Jasper. . . No matter what his last name was, the evidence piling up around her was too significant to deny any longer. Bella looked over at her friend and mentor. His eyes were narrowed and his lips were pursed thoughtfully.

"What was he playing?" he asked.

"I didn't recognize the piece, but it was awfully maudlin. And he hardly acknowledged my presence. I didn't stay long."

"He's composing again? Damn." Emmett leaned back in his chair and rubbed his hands over his face. Bella shifted in her seat, feeling like she should say something. Anything. But she had no idea what. The mood in the office had gone from excited to distressed. And it was all her fault.

"What do you think it means? He hasn't written music since-"

"I know. But I have no idea what it means. Has he been seeing anyone that you know of?"

"Emmett, you know he would confide in you before talking to me. Call Jasper. If anyone knows what is going on, he does."

_I know_, Bella thought to herself. _I did it. I'm the reason he's hiding out in Chicago instead of working alongside his best friend. _

"No. Let's do this. . . He always feels better when he's working on a project. I know he said he wanted to take some time off, but I think we should get him over here as soon as possible. Besides, you don't want to be flying back and forth all the time."

"I can't say that I don't enjoy traveling, but I can't leave Carlisle alone for too long. He's hopeless when it comes to feeding himself. He'll be eating at the cafeteria at work for breakfast, lunch and dinner!"

Bella smiled despite her distress. Esme sounded just like her own mother. "Charlie would eat at the diner for every meal if it weren't for me!" she used to say.

"Great. Bella, I'll give you his contact info. I'll need you to email him my markups for the blueprints, the updated site survey, plus anything else you feel he should know. He'll be the lead architect, but he'll also be learning about other parts of the process. Don't worry. He's sharp. He won't need too much hand-holding."

"I. . ." Her voice cracked. She swallowed and tried again. "Emmett, I don't know. . ."

"Bella, stop. You worry too much. I'm here to help. Esme is here for the next five days, and even after that she's just a phone call away. Edward's awesome. You'll see. He doesn't bite."

_Actually, yes he does, _she thought guiltily. _Shit. I'm in deep, deep shit._


	32. 12-Point Helvetica

_I know. Massive update fail. Sorry!_

* * *

Bella stared at her computer monitor until her eyes burned. The blank email message stared right back. Now that she knew Edward stood to inherit a controlling share of an enormous company, the time they had shared together felt even more distant. He was out of her league. Scratch that. He was on a completely different plane of existence.

She was positive that he would be alarmed when he learned who she worked for, if Emmett hadn't told him her name already. She had no idea how he would take the news. He would definitely be shocked. It would have been an alarming revelation even if they hadn't disintegrated. Now, if he really believed the worst of her, he might be afraid that she would sabotage their project.

Would he be willing to work with her? She knew she could put aside her feelings about everything he had said to her and just focus on business. She needed to reassure him on that point, at least. She did not want to lose this promotion. No matter what had happened between them in Chicago, she was a professional. He could trust her to put the needs of the company. . . companies. . . before her own feelings. Could he do the same?

There was only one way to find out. Finally, she had a purpose behind her writing.

~~typing~~

Dear Edward. . .

_No. Delete._

Dear Mr. Masen. . .

_No. Too formal._

Mr. Masen. . .

_Better._

Today, I found out. . .

_No._

I was shocked to learn. . .

_No._

I met your mother this morning. You were right about her. She's incredible! And we get along so well, just as you predicted. . .

_Too much. Too soon. Just too. . . too._

I learned today that we have a mutual acquaintance. Your friend with the excellent taste in beer is also my boss, Emmett McCarty. I never knew coincidence could hurt so much. . .

_Shit. Back up. _

He spoke of your mutual plans for the McCarty-Platt endeavor with so much confidence and enthusiasm that I can only be grateful for the opportunity to work with both of you.

Of course, I know any new working relationship will have its challenges. I know that I am. . .

_I am what? A distraction? A thorn in your side? A liability? What am I to you? _

_I can't do this. This is crazy. I can't. . ._

_But I have to, don't I?_

All new relationships have their challenges, even in, or perhaps _especially _in, the business world. My goal in reaching out to you is to establish open lines of communication with the expectation that we will place professional objectives above and before any personal considerations. . .

_I sound like a heartless bitch. Maybe I am a heartless bitch,_ she thought as she rubbed her sternum with the heel of her right hand. There was a pinching, aching feeling underneath it that just wouldn't go away. _I wish my life had the same functions as Word: Esc. Undo. Something. I want to return to an earlier version of this file, please. Please?_

I am attaching several files, at Mr. McCarty's request, detailing the new commercial and retail requirements for exterior doors, wiring, plumbing, fire suppression systems and security glass. Please see below for links to the building code and fire code.

I am looking forward to working with you. . .

Closely with you. . .

_No._

I am excited to see where the new year will take us. . .

_Now I'm just a cliche._

Please let me know when we can meet in person. (again) I believe McCarty Commercial Partners and Platt &amp; Beckonridge Design are going to do great things together. . .

_How trite. Blah blah blah. Is there a good way to wrap up an email like this?_

_This is stupid. I can't email him out of the blue like this. It can only make things worse._

~~end typing~~

Bella picked up her office phone and accessed her saved phone messages. It was so strange to hear her own voice echoing through the phone line with the beehive-buzzing-hum of airport activity in the background. She wrote down Edward's phone number and hung up the phone, then dialed quickly before she could lose her nerve.

A voice she did not recognize answered. "Hello, this is Jasper."

It was a deep voice with a pleasant lilt. Not quite a drawl, but there was definitely something about the way he spoke that made you want to _listen_.

"Oh. Hey, Jasper. Um, is Edward there? My name is Bella. I really need to talk to him. Is he home?"

"I'm sorry. I haven't seen him all day. Can I take a message?"

"Actually, I'm really bad at leaving messages. I mean, I don't ever know what to say." It was a lie. She left voicemails all the time. This wasn't something she could tell a stranger. She was almost relieved he wasn't home. She didn't know what she would have said if Edward had answered.

"Do you have a number he can reach you at?"

"Yeah. Well, actually, I have to email him. I can include it in my email. It's just. . . Could you maybe tell him to check his email? His work email. But tell him that's not all I need to tell him. I didn't want to write it down, because of work. He probably wouldn't want, I mean, I just. . . I wanted to tell him sorry," she finally finished in a low, strangled voice.

"I'm sorry. I'm not sure I understand. You work with Edward?"

"Not yet. I will be. Soon."

"Then how did you get this number?"

Bella sensed both curiosity and distrust in his voice. She had no idea how much his roommate had told him. Esme and Emmett both agreed that Jasper was the first person Edward would have confided in. "He gave it to me. Last week."

"Not his cell?"

"Oh. No. I guess not."

"Okay. . ." He paused, thinking. Bella picked at her thumb nail as she waited, dropping little flecks of red polish onto her slacks. "Tell you what, I don't know what's going on, but by the sound of things, you really do need to talk to him directly. Here's his cell phone number. Call him."

She copied the second number down below the first, her pen wobbling through the characters. "Thanks, Jasper. I'll call him right away."

She dialed, but it went straight to voicemail. His voice, even though it was just a recording, sent tremors of desperate need through her hollowed-out chest. She panicked and slammed the receiver down before the message recorder could beep.

Bella wrapped her arms tightly around her chest, squeezing until her joints popped. It took several minutes, but the shaking finally slowed down.

It was almost lunch time and she had plans to meet Jacob at the sandwich shop across the street. She needed to get through this email. She'd already wasted enough time; time that would have been better spent on the phone with the permitting office. Feeling embarrassed by her cowardice, Bella returned to her e-mail screen and tried to make the best of it. Words were clumsy.

~~typing~~

To: Edward Masen

From: Isabella Swan isabellas 

Subject: McCarty/Platt&amp;Beckonridge - RE Portfolio Development Project

Mr. Masen,

Today I learned that we have a mutual acquaintance. Imagine how surprised I was when I found out that your friend with the excellent taste in beer is also my boss, Emmett McCarty. Mr. McCarty holds you in high esteem as a friend, but also as an architect and a business associate. When he assigned me to work alongside you as the McCarty Program Director for the upcoming development projects, I was both nervous and flattered. I never imagined I would be offered an opportunity like this so early in my career. He spoke of your mutual plans for the McCarty-Platt endeavor with so much confidence and enthusiasm that I can only be grateful for the opportunity to work with both of you.

I've come to realize that all relationships have their challenges; old or new, personal lives or business associations. Recently, errors and omissions in communication have caused irreparable damage in my personal life. I do not want to make those same mistakes in my professional life. My goal in reaching out to you is to establish open lines of communication with the expectation that we will place professional objectives above and before any personal considerations.

I am attaching several files, at Mr. McCarty's request, detailing the new commercial and retail requirements for the 54-story residential building your team designed. The changes will affect exterior doors, wiring, plumbing, fire suppression systems and security glass. Please see below for links to the applicable Seattle building code and fire code chapters.

I believe McCarty Commercial Partners and Platt &amp; Beckonridge Design are going to do great things together. I couldn't be happier to have been selected to play a key role in this undertaking. Please let me know when we can meet in person. I am excited to begin.

Sincerely,

Isabella Swan

Director, Real Estate Portfolio Development

McCarty Commercial Partners

~~end typing~~

It was good enough. She hoped. At least it was professional. If it lived on in either company server, it wouldn't be a big problem since it didn't contain any damaging personal information. It was odd for an introductory email, maybe, but not revealing. And she hoped he would take her professional tone the way she intended - she was capable of putting her own feelings aside to work for the benefit of both companies. She wouldn't let last week get in the way of their responsibilities.

She only wished there was space between the lines for things she really wanted to say. The words she _needed _to say. Words like _I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry._

Bella typed them in below her signature block, just to see them for herself. In black and white 12-point Helvetica, they didn't look so scary. The letters should have been big and bold, three dimensional and blazing with colors; yellows and reds and purples and blues.

She decided to try his cell phone one more time. When his voicemail picked up again, she drank in the sound of his voice. She took a deep breath and began speaking right when the beep sounded. "Hi, Edward. It's Bella. . . I. . ." And then her throat seized up. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't push the air through her voice box. Her vocal cords produced a reedy hiss, then froze completely. Her hand was shaking so violently that she barely got the phone back in the cradle.

Bella pushed back from her desk and stood up. She would read through the message one more time after lunch, then she would send it. She told herself that she wasn't procrastinating, she was using sound judgement.

She was slipping on her coat when there was a knock on the door frame.

"Me again," Jacob grinned when she looked up. "Sam called and I guess we have an appointment in Olympia this afternoon that didn't make it onto the calendar. I can't stay long, but I brought you a sandwich."

"Jake, you didn't have to do that. But thank you. Do you want to eat before you hit the road?" She hung her coat back up and cleared a space on her desk for him to unload the food, scooting her keyboard and mouse out of the way. Her mouse fell on the floor and she picked it up and moved it out of harm's way.

"I have about fifteen minutes. I got you a turkey club and soup. Is that okay?"

"It sounds perfect. Thanks!" She wasn't all that hungry after her giant breakfast, but she sat down at the corner of her desk with her old friend and dug in. After a couple bites she nudged his knee with hers. "So. . . how was coffee?"

"It was good. Real good. I don't actually know what I was expecting, or if I even had expectations. I think if I had, she still would have blown them all away. She's just. . . I don't know. . . she's _it_. Is that weird to say? I never thought I would be that guy. . . you know, the schmuck who turns into a complete marshmallow around a girl. But I am. I did. I feel like my insides are this warm, sticky mess and I can't stop smiling."

"I noticed." She smiled, too. "Twitterbated is a good look on you."

"Stop it, Bells. I mean it. She's _everything_. It shouldn't happen like that. It's too weird. But when I saw her, even before I knew it was her, I _knew _her. God, I sound like such a girl right now."

Bella giggled and slurped her soup from the tiny plastic spoon that came with it. "A girl with a baritone."

"Shut up."

"No. No. It's okay. You've got this steroid-riddled kind of college co-ed sound. It's weird, but it works. You could join a sorority. You've got the hair for it, so why not?"

His thick, silky black hair was tied in a low ponytail with a thin strip of rawhide. He smoothed it back with both hands and scowled. "Carlie loved my hair."

"All women love you hair. They _want _your hair."

"As long as she takes me along with it."

"Are you seeing her again?" Bella crumpled her sandwich wrapper into a ball and tossed it in the bin under her desk.

"Friday evening. I'm taking her out to dinner." His 100-watt smile was back.

"Good. Knock her off her feet."

"Do you think your little stylist friend could help me pick out something to wear?"

"Alice? I thought you couldn't stand her."

"What? No. I just feel weird when people look straight through me like they can't even see me." Jacob shrugged his shoulders casually. "But she's cool. And she has good taste in clothes. _You _always look amazing."

"Thanks. That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me," Bella laughed at the backhanded compliment. "She's not big on eye contact except with people she's close to. Or when she's into a guy. I have to call her after lunch anyway. I'll let you know what she says."

She had about a dozen things to talk to Alice about. This was just one more reason not to put it off any longer. Alice would flip over the opportunity to dress Jacob for his date. She would pounce on him like was a Ken doll. A hotter, taller, not-androgynous Native American Ken doll.

"I better run. Call me after you talk to her. And let me know how that bid measures up. We may have some wriggle room if it's close, so don't dismiss us out of hand."

"I'll look it over this afternoon. Thanks for lunch, Jake. And for being my friend, even though I never take the time to hang out. I should say thank you more often."

"Stop it. We're all busy doing serious grown-up shit. I could have made time to visit more, too. We'll both be better about it, okay?"

"Okay," she agreed and hugged him. He patted the top of her head and left, swinging his keys around one finger.

Bella wiped her desk down, straightened her work area and unlocked the screen that had timed out. She would read the email one more time then hit send. The ball would be in Edward's court then, and she would just have to wait and see how he responded.

She jiggled her mouse. Her desktop was a mess. Two applications she rarely used and several other windows were open. She must have highlighted a bunch of stuff by accident when she moved her stuff to make room for lunch. She closed the extra windows and reopened her email, but the draft message was gone. She opened her Draft folder, but the only messages there were old client correspondence that she had abandoned or saved for reference purposes.

A feeling of dread pooled in her stomach. _No, no, no. Please, God. . . no!_

Bella opened her Sent folder. Sure enough, the message was time-stamped twenty minutes earlier. She bit her lip so hard she tasted blood. She double-clicked on the message and scrolled down, line by line. Down to the line she hoped he would overlook.

Black and white 12-point Helvetica. _I miss you. I love you. I'm sorry._

"You stupid girl," she said to herself with tears in her eyes. "You stupid, clumsy girl."

Her email chimed. He had sent a reply.


	33. With a Little Help From My Friends

**So. . . . that took a lot longer than intended. Sorry. Real life has been exceptionally busy lately. I missed these guys. I missed YOU guys!**

* * *

**With a Little Help From My Friends**

The phone rang three times before it picked up. "Alice? It's Bella. I'm so, so sorry. I'm a self-absorbed, emotionally-stunted control freak with no appreciation for the people I love, and I'm a complete idiot," Bella blurted out in a rush.

"Wow. Hello to you, too. Don't forget to inhale. I take it you're feeling a bit better about the whole Mike thing," Alice replied in a cautious tone.

"Honestly, I'm still angry and hurt, but it's pretty much irrelevant now. I didn't tell you the whole story the other night. Not even close. I should have let you help me. I should have slowed down and told you everything. And I definitely shouldn't have gone off on you like a psycho bitch when you were just being a good friend."

"Stop beating yourself up. You're far too good at that," Alice scolded. "I understand. Really, I do. I would have called you, but I figured you needed a bit of space. I see you're calling me from work. Is everything okay?"

"Ummmm. . . Yes and no. Things are better than awesome at work. I just got an enormous promotion. But the part of the Chicago story I neglected to tell you is going to be a problem. A big problem. I need your help, but I can't go into the details here."

"Oh my gosh. You hooked up with someone else, didn't you?"

"What? How-" Bella choked out.

"Drinks. Tonight. Dante's," Alice ordered.

"I don't know if I should really be drinking on a work night." Actually, she was _positive _she shouldn't be drinking. The memory of waking up feeling sluggish and hungover on Monday morning helped her hold her ground against Alice's begging and pleading.

Alice quickly realized it was no use and huffed, "You're no fun. Fine. Come over to my place. We'll shut ourselves up in my room with a pile of soda and junk food and talk about boys."

"Just like old times," Bella sighed, relieved that Alice had forgiven her so readily. Alice had always been exceptionally tolerant and understanding. Not only that, but Alice was sure to have the best strategies to help her manage the Edward problem. "There's one other thing before I have to get back to work."

"Yeah? I can already tell it's something good."

Bella laughed at the eager sound of her friend's voice. "Jacob has a date this Friday, and he's requested a certain genius to be his personal stylist for a day."

"Stinky Jacob?"

"Alice! He does not smell bad."

"Maybe he doesn't, but his cologne does. It's like being trapped in a hot car with a wet dog."

"I'm pretty sure you're exaggerating. He smells fine to me. But if you think it's a problem, you can help him fix that, too."

"Budget?"

"He claims she's 'the one'. This is only their second date. He's picking her up after work and taking her out for dinner here in the city. You do the math."

"Oooooh! Carte blanche. My favorite! Tell him that it would be my pleasure. I'll meet him by the ground floor escalator in Westlake Center on Friday morning at 11. He better not be late."

"Yes, ma'am," Bella laughed. Jake would probably get there half an hour early just to make sure. "I'll call you when I leave work tonight, okay?"

"Perfect. Don't forget. It's your turn to bring the Oreos."

"Double Stuff. I promise. I love you, Alice."

"Love you, too!"

Bella placed the received gently back in its cradle and sighed. Now that it was done, she couldn't figure out why she had waited so long to call Alice. She needed to have more faith in their friendship. Alice had never deserted her when she needed a friend, so there was no reason for her to assume she would now.

Feeling a bit braver, Bella read back through Edward's e-mail. It wasn't any clearer than it had been the first time she read it. The words still left her feeling hollow in her stomach and a little bit like she was sitting outside the principal's office, waiting to learn if she was going to be lightly scolded or expelled.

To: Isabella Swan isabellas 

From: Edward Masen

Subject: Re: McCarty/Platt&amp;Beckonridge - RE Portfolio Development Project

Ms. Swan,

Thank you for the modification details. I will bring a revised draft for review when I meet with Mr. McCarty in Seattle on Monday, December 29th. We can discuss any other considerations at that time.

Sincerely,

Edward Anthony Masen, Jr.

Vice President, Platt &amp; Beckonridge Design

It was very. . . succinct. Thirty words to her three hundred. What was he saying? That he didn't need to discuss anything with her now because she wasn't even going to be working that long? Maybe he was just too busy to respond in more detail. Or perhaps he was being discreet.

She came back to his signature block and frowned in confusion. Junior? She was pretty certain that you only added 'Jr.' after your name if you shared your name with your father. So maybe Esme did have a previous marriage. It would explain away a lot of confusing details.

She scrolled down to her original message. The damning words were still there. So innocuous at first glance, but the longer she stared, the more threatening they became. Bella was 99 percent sure that he hadn't noticed them. If he had, he would have responded in some way. Wouldn't he? Surely he would have deleted them before sending his response.

It was impossible to consider alternative explanations. . . That he had read those words and not believed them, not wanted to acknowledge them or encourage her in any way. Or even worse, he was laughing at her. The thought made her cringe in shame. Whether he had seen them or not, she couldn't take them back. Even if he had overlooked them the first time, he could revisit the e-mail at any time in the future and see them. They would be sitting like a ticking time-bomb in his email account forever.

Bella eventually replied to his email with a simple, one-line acknowledgement to indicate she had received it and would be available to meet at his convenience on the 29th. She deleted the damning postscript before sending, then deleted the other copies of the message from her inbox and 'sent' folder. She had done everything within her power to prevent further damage. There was nothing else to do but wait for his arrival.

Between now and then loomed her first Christmas without Mike. For the last several years, she had traveled up to Everett to celebrate with his family. When her father could take the time off, he joined them. Where would she spend Christmas now? Sitting alone in her barren apartment was out of the question. She briefly considered asking Alice if she could stay with her for the holiday. However, she knew she belonged back home with her dad. She couldn't let her old man celebrate Christmas alone.

Determined to clear her head and start her afternoon without any other drama hanging over her head, she dialed her father's number at the police station. When she heard his slightly gruff voice reading a obviously scripted outgoing message, she smiled.

She missed the days when she used to stop into the station with her mom unannounced, carrying plates of brownies or cookies for her dad to share with his staff. They were just made from boxed mixes or refrigerated tubes of dough, but her dad always reacted as if they had brought him ambrosia from Olympus. As a young girl she would beam, giggle and squirm with delight to see him stuff an entire scorched chocolate chip cookie into his mouth, close his eyes and hum contentedly through his bushy mustache. Then he would brush the crumbs from his mouth, kiss her mom on the lips and give Bella's hair a little tug.

"Your hair must have grown an inch from this morning!"

"Nope," she would say. "Hair doesn't grow that fast."

"Then maybe _you've_ grown an inch since this morning," he would continue, scowling a little as he held his hand above her head.

"Nope," she would reply, doing her best not to laugh.

"That's it then. I'm getting shorter. No other explanation," he would sigh dejectedly, and she would laugh and laugh and laugh, deep from her belly.

When she was a bit older, the cookies were a more consistent quality, but his response was exactly the same, and she was quietly pleased. Her dad eventually stopped teasing her about growing too fast, but he still gave her hair a little tug as he grabbed a treat from the top of the pile.

It was their language-

"I love you. I'm thinking of you."

"Thank you, sweetheart. I love you, too."

The words were awkward to say out loud, but they understood each other.

After her mother passed away, the ritual lost some of its magic. Mom wasn't there to help her measure the dough, adjust the rack height in the oven or poke the tops of the cookies when the timer beeped to make sure they weren't going to give the whole police department salmonella poisoning. She missed witnessing their kiss. It was so sweet. A simple reminder that her world made sense. The ground was firm beneath her feet as long as cookies, crumbs and kisses held their rightful place in the world.

Bella waited for her dad's voice to stumble through the voicemail script, then left a brief message for him. "Sorry I missed you, Dad. I was just calling to say that I'm sorry for the way I spoke to you the other day. I was ungrateful and disrespectful. I wish I could take it all back. Thanks for always looking out for me. I was thinking about driving down there this weekend, if you don't already have plans. Let me know. Thanks. I. . . I love you."

She hung up the phone, wiped the moisture from her eyes and called Angela into her office. She'd used up enough of her day on her emotional needs. She had plenty of _real _work to do before she could call it a day and meet up with Alice.

Over the course of the afternoon, Bella regained her excitement for the project. She couldn't wait to reconvene with Esme and Emmett the following morning. As long as she wasn't thinking about Edward or the his arrival in a week and a half, she was fine.

Emmett had installed Esme in an office on the same floor as him. Before she left for the evening, Bella hurried upstairs to see if either one was still working, but the offices were all dark and Mandy's desk was decluttered and dusted, ready to start the next day with a clean slate.

Bella went back to her apartment building to get her car, swung by the grocery store to collect the obligatory treats and arrived at Alice's house at half past seven.

"Bella!" Tamara, greeted her at the door with a warm hug. "Come on in, darling. Alice is just helping Cliff with the dishes."

Bella returned her hug, mildly surprised to realize that Tamara was quite a bit thinner than she remembered. As they walked back to the kitchen, Bella really looked at her for the first time in many years. Years ago, her figure was heavy, curvy and soft. She was the most comfortable person to hug! Now, her skin hung loose at her throat and on her arms. She shambled more than walked across the carpeted room. Tamara's hair was cut very short, and the tightly coiled strands were more grizzled gray than black. Her skin had more wrinkles, and dark chocolate freckles danced across her nose and cheekbones. A few years ago they had been barely visible except up close. Tamara always wore dangling earrings, and Bella recognized the painted-wooden beads she was wearing now as a set Alice had made for her while they were still in high school. She was shocked to realize that Tamara was 70 years old. That meant that Cliff was turning 74 in a couple of months. Alice had come into their life when they were already middle-aged. Now they were senior citizens.

When they rounded the corner and entered the kitchen, she had to laugh. He might be old, but Clifford Brandon had the spirit of a man in the prime of his life. Alice and her father was dancing in the middle of the kitchen, swinging dish rags above their heads, stomping their feet and singing a syncopated James Brown hit. Tamara joined in, clapping her hands for a few measures before snatching the rags from their hands and shooing them laughing from the room.

"Hey, honey. How are you? We've hardly seen you around. Alice says you've been rebuilding the skyline one block at a time," Cliff patted her shoulder as they made their way to the living room. He settled into his easy chair with a huff and a sigh. Cliff was light on his feet, but he was a heavy-set man and the chair sank beneath his weight.

"Just bits and pieces of it, really," she smiled.

"Big bits," Alice added, handed the remote to her father then plopped down onto the couch and crossed her legs. "Bella called off the engagement with Mike so she's going to be spending Christmas with us."

"Well, actually, I was going to visit my dad. But I would love to come over for Christmas Eve," Bella jumped in quickly.

"I'm sorry things didn't work out with your young man. We'd love to have you, honey. Charlie is welcome, too. Tamara put up plenty of rhubarb this year. I bet she would make a pie just for him."

"Oh boy," Bella hesitated. Her dad loved Tamara's home-baked pies. "I'll talk to him this weekend. And I could help you guys prepare the food."

"The more the merrier," Tamara added, setting a cup of decaf on the table beside her husband before sinking into her own recliner. "Well, you girls run along and have your fun. No need to wait on us old folks."

"Love you, Mom." Alice said, kissing her mother on the cheek. "Love you, Dad," she said, as she kissed her father.

An older black couple with their adopted white daughter. . . They painted a completely atypical picture, but the three of them were what always came to mind when Bella thought of family. Three against three game nights, holiday dinners with the daughters presiding at the head and the foot of the table, summer outings and day trips. Her mother's passing had changed all of their lives. And then Bella had become so absorbed in school, work and her relationship with Mike that she hardly had time for anything else. It would be such a blessing to gain a small measure of that happiness back. She was certain that Charlie would agree to Christmas with the Brandons.

Up in Alice's room, Bella unloaded her grocery bag onto the center of her friend's bed. Alice tossed her a couple extra pillows. They sat in their pillow nests with their legs crossed, popped open cans of soda and dug into the Oreos.

"I broke up with Danny," Alice started. "You never met him. He drove a Harley."

"I bet your parents loved that," Bella teased.

Alice shrugged and grabbed another cookie, raised her eyebrows and waited for Bella to come clean.

"I went home with a complete stranger last Tuesday, stayed in his penthouse apartment for two nights and had the best sex of my life."

"You win," Alice sighed.

"No. I lose. I never told him about Mike, then he found my engagement ring and we had an awful argument. This morning I found out that he's one of Emmett's best friends and I'm supposed to be working alongside him on a multi-million dollar joint venture."

"Oh. Yeah. That's shit luck," Alice responded philosophically. "What are you going to do?"

"I have no idea. He's flying here in a week and a half. That gives me time to come up with a plan, right?"

"Tell him about Mike, apologize for your poor judgement in not telling him the whole truth, then ask if you can start over. You do want to be with him, right?"

"More than anything," Bella admitted, then popped another Oreo in her mouth to stifle the sob she felt growing in her chest.

"We can do this. No crying, no fretting. Just be the stunning, successful, confident woman that first caught his eye. Unless there is something really wrong with him, he'll understand. He may take some time to come around, but once he knows the truth, he's not going to want to let you get away."

"Rosalie said something similar. I don't know how you both do it. I want to feel confident, but inside I'm shaking."

"You said you had the best sex of your life?"

"Um, yeah," Bella blushed, remembering.

"How about him? Did he seem as affected as you?"

Bella thought back to Edward's expressions as they kissed and made love. Unless he was a professional actor, he was as consumed by their connection as she had been. "I think so. Yeah. He couldn't control himself." Her cheeks burned as she recalled his voice cracking and his face crumpling in ecstasy.

"Oh. Well then. Maybe that's a little TMI," Alice joked, and snatched the bag of cookies out of Bella's hands. "We need to sexy up your work wardrobe. Remind him what he's missing."

"There's nothing wrong with my work clothes."

"There's nothing _wrong _with them. But they are awfully boring. We need to add some color. And I have these drop-dead gorgeous heels for you to try on."

Alice slid off the bed and opened the door to the adjoining room. The other bedroom was strewn with fabric samples, rolls of textiles and piles of patterns and sketches. Alice started in the massive closet, pulling out blouses, skirts and dresses. She held up a few, considering the color against Bella's complexion, before returning them to the closet. Alice settle on several jewel-toned blouses, a wool dress composed of abstract panels of black, blue and purple fabric, a short red suit jacket with matching fitted skirt and several pairs of shoes.

Their sugar binge turned into a dress-up party with Alice scribbling notes which she pinned to each garment to tailor them for Bella's narrower hips and bigger bust. When they heard Alice's parents getting ready for bed, Bella reluctantly prepared to go.

"I know I said it earlier, but I am so, so sorry. You're my best friend. We're practically sisters. If I ever act like that again, you have my permission to. . ."

"To what?"

"To horde all the Oreos in the world."

"Except the weird colored ones that sell around Easter and Halloween."

"I'll eat those," Bella replied readily.

"Deal," Alice nodded decisively and held out her hand.

They shook on it, and Bella let herself out. Her blood sugar level was off the charts, but she felt worlds better than she had all week.


	34. Hustle

_A/N: Um. . . . sorry. I lost my internet on July 1st and only got it back up and running recently. Sucks to be cut off from Google Docs. The King County library system is great, but the little man does NOT like sitting still in his stroller while I write. Any who. . . here we are again. Thanks for everyone who has sent me encouraging reviews!_

* * *

Esme and Bella spent their Thursday morning in the map room. A 3D replica of downtown Seattle dominated the space. The Seattle skyline was changing so rapidly that it was hard to keep up. One of Mandy's duties as Emmett's secretary was to update the map table each week, with details from any new listings, permits or registered building plans. Bella was able to pick out at least ten changes since the last time she had been in the room.

Every building was built to scale, with McCarthy properties and projects marked with a blue 'M'. Dozens of lots bore yellow structures to show those high rises that were currently under construction. More than double that number were ringed in green to represent permitted projects that had yet to break ground. Parcels and buildings that were potentially available for purchase were ringed in red.

Bella's eyes were drawn to the red ring around the Columbia tower, rumored to be under contract for 750 million dollars with a Chinese investment giant. Combining resources with Platt and Beckonridge was more than just a ploy to increase McCarthy holdings, it was necessary for survival. With the way things were going, in a few years, only the really big dogs would be allowed to play. Maps, sketches and newspapers were strewn across the work tables when Emmett came by to check on them.

"What is all this? Are we giving up on real buildings and turning to papier mache?"

"Shhh. . ." Bella hushed him with a scowl.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, smirking.

He crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame. They both stood by silently while Esme carefully stacked gray ceramic blocks and disks on adjacent parcels near the intersection of Boren Avenue and Madison Street.

"That's the right orientation, I think. Bella?"

"The second tower would have to be a few stories shorter. We can only go three stories down for a garage and foundation in that area. Anything deeper would be cost prohibitive, even if we could get it through planning and permitting."

"Really? The variations in terrain, bedrock depth and soil quality here are giving me a migraine."

"You and every other builder, developer or engineer since Seattle was first built," Bella added wrily.

"And you're certain we can't go higher than 5,800 square feet on the combined footprint?"

"Positive. With driveways, sidewalks and setbacks, we'll be lucky to get even that much."

Esme gave a disappointed sigh. "So, 20 stories is as high as we can go."

Emmett pushed off from the door frame and walked over to stand between them. "Ladies, if you don't mind me cutting in here, do you care to explain what you're planning?"

"Bella received a call this morning from a friend on the city council. There are two adjacent parcels near her apartment up on First Hill that may be coming on the market. With the city council support for redevelopment in the area, it's the ideal time to move on them as long as we can get the numbers to work out. However, we're coming to the conclusion that the value isn't there unless we can build up another four stories.

"Isn't your son an architect? Ask him."

"I left him a voice mail. He hasn't called back yet."

"So, how about this?" Emmett removed several tiles and replaced them with a taller stack of smaller squares rotated at 45 degrees, then topped those with four round disks. "Use the lower levels as the foundation for the narrower upper stories and keep building up. What's the total square footage now?"

Bella estimated the totals and started smiling. "It's prettier that way, too. No longer just another ugly box with windows. Terraced gardens will add significant value and improve the overall aesthetics. I like it."

"If we move forward, we'll put Edward to work on a design proposal. Nothing he designs can be described as a box with windows. Although, calling it that might be a great way to piss him off. Come to think of it, I'll have to use that one sometime. Now, how much is this gonna cost me?"

"You mean, how much is this going to cost us?" Esme asked slyly, slipped her arm through his.

"Whatever. Either way, I know that I'm going to be the one holding the pry bar steady while you lovely ladies leverage the hell out of my bank account. What's the latest on First Street?"

"Edward will have the updated plans ready the Monday after Christmas," Bella supplied, managing not to choke on his name.

"That's fast. He'll be living on coffee and Red Bull until then, I guess."

"That boy," Esme sighed, shaking her head.

"Don't think I didn't notice that you never gave me a price. Well, if this one seems promising, I'll put Declan to work on it. You two have enough to juggle right now. Do me a favor and send him the bare bones details of your proposal so he can get started. You're already working feasibility on four other projects. Just a heads up, I'm going to cut out early today. Rosie and I are having dinner with the 'rents."

"How nice. Give them my love," Esme said.

Bella echoed her words, but inside she was disappointed. She had intended to drop in on Rosalie that evening. Alice had a class, and she didn't feel like sitting around by herself in her vacant apartment.

Once they were alone again, Esme nudged Bella with a rolled up newspaper. "You look overwhelmed."

"A little. Okay. . . a lot. I'm used to multitasking, but up until very recently, every job has had a definite start point and a final destination. I don't usually get involved until the land acquisition is already underway, and Emmett has a basic plan and timeline outlined for me. This. . . well, it's just huge, you know? I'm the one advising both of you on where to invest millions of dollars. I'm intimidated by all of it, if I'm being completely honest."

"You think this isn't new for us, too? I'm used to being the boss. So is he. Every decision we make is going to be weighed and measured against double the expectations. Neither of us wants to overstep ourselves, but we're both pretty strong-willed. In a way, it's quite a relief to have Edward stepping in as a buffer for me, the way you will be for Emmett. It's scary, but pretty exciting. Am I right?"

"It is exciting. I woke up before my alarm this morning. I couldn't wait to get here and get to work."

"Oh, good. I feel the same way. However, there's one very important lesson you need to learn."

"What's that?" Bella asked, tidying the work tables as they conversed.

"Beware of burnout. You need time off to decompress and to let your subconscious mind sort through details that your conscious mind hasn't even processed yet. I remember what is was like to be young, ambitious and full of energy. It can be tough to force yourself to take a real lunch break, or to leave the office in the evening and unwind."

Bella thought guiltily of the countless evenings she had worked until 9 or 10 o'clock and still taken work home. Angela teased her about it, but Mike had been truly bothered and even threatened by her workaholic tendencies.

"That's going to be hard for you, isn't it?" Esme asked with a sympathetic smile.

"It's just that there isn't anything else I would rather be doing," Bella sighed. Work was her life now.

"No boyfriend?"

"I just got out of a long-term relationship. My head is a little mixed up right now. I don't think I'm interested in going back down that road at the moment."

"That makes it more challenging to take time for yourself, but more important, too. I have nothing planned tonight. Let's go out and do something fun."

"What, like shopping?" Bella naturally assumed that Esme would want to take some souvenirs home for Christmas.

"Oh, dear. No. Let's get dinner, maybe grab a drink and listen to some music. Or play a round of pool."

"Sure," Bella shrugged, feeling both surprised and pleased. "That does sound like fun. There's a neat place I went to once with my friend Alice. It's in Bellevue, but it doesn't take long to cross the lake. I remember that they had decent beers on tap and a few pool tables. I think they even do beer pong competitions."

"Beer pong! I've been wanting to try that, but Carlisle refuses. Yes! That's perfect!"

Bella laughed at the way Esme's eyes lit up over the idea of playing beer pong. The rest of the afternoon flew by with a flurry of document reviews, phone calls and site visits. They left the last building site in Esme's rental car, a full-size black sedan that reminded Bella of an official government vehicle. They joined the crush of cars leaving the city and reached Bellevue half an hour later.

Bellevue was undergoing its own construction boom, and Bella cried out in shock when she saw that their destination no longer existed. The lot was now an 18-foot deep hole lined with concrete and rebar.

"No beer pong, huh?" Esme laughed when she saw Bella's expression.

"Oh, Esme. I'm so sorry. I haven't been here in over a year. I had no idea that things had changed so much!"

"Don't worry. Let's just park the car and look around for a bit. There's bound to be a restaurant or bar that appeals to us."

Following Bella's directions, Esme parked in a nearby lot, and they joined the crowds of pedestrians that were milling up and down the sidewalks. They checked a few menus and stopped to look at some window displays, but nothing jumped out at them. Suddenly, the older woman grabbed Bella's arm and squealed. Bella was beginning to get used to Esme's childlike excitement. She laughed and looked to see what Esme was pointing at.

"Lucky Strike?"

"We'll play beer pong another time. Maybe we can even learn the rules, then challenge Emmett and Edward to a game. Tonight, we can bowl."

"Ummm. . . Bowling? We're wearing suits."

"Oh, Bella. This is what I was talking about. Shake off the white collar personality and have some fun!"

With that, Esme set off at a fast walk, and Bella scurried to catch up. When they reached the entrance, they waited in line and gave their names to the hostess.

"I'll put you on the waiting list for a lane. Right now we're looking at about an hour. Can I show you to a seat in the lounge?"

Bella deferred to Esme, who nodded, and they followed the hostess to a plush, padded booth. Bella pored over the menu before settling on a draft beer and chicken strips. Esme ordered a hamburger and onion rings.

"You're taking this 'having fun' thing all the way, aren't you? Weren't you just telling us that Carlisle has poor eating habits when you're not around?"

"Onions are a vegetable," Esme responded primly.

"Right," Bella said, grinning over her beer.

Bella and Esme talked and laughed like old friends, or maybe like a girl and her favorite aunt. Esme told her stories about Edward growing up that left her giggling and gasping for air. Hearing the kind of boy he was, serious but open-hearted and sweet, made her miss him even more. As much as it hurt, she couldn't bear to change the subject. She was hungry for more.

Bella opened up about losing her mother, the impact it had had on her relationship with her father, and Alice, her closest friend and confidante. The hour disappeared much faster than they expected.

When the hostess called their names, they found their assigned lane and exchanged their pumps for bowling shoes. Bella wriggled her toes as they slipped around inside the wide leather shoes. Bemused, she hung her suit coat over the back of a chair and finished her beer.

Esme was scrutinizing the selection of bowling balls when a pair of younger guys showed up and starting programming their information into the lane's computer.

"Hey, wait! This is our lane. We're just about to start a game," Bella protested.

"What do you mean? We've been waiting for an hour. They told us that this lane was open."

Bella guessed that the young men were a few years younger than her. One had shaggy blonde hair and the slightly puffy look of a video game addict. His friend was average height and wiry, with an energetic air. He scowled at her when she didn't back down.

Esme came to stand beside Bella. "What's the matter? Have we been double-booked?", she inquired.

"Pfft. It looks like we're the only ones with names on the board," the dark-haired one scoffed, but his friend cut in.

"Yes, ma'am. I guess so," the blonde said. "But there's only the four of us. Maybe we could play guys against girls."

"I don't know. . ." Bella hesitated.

"Yeah. Let's do it. Loser pays both tabs," Esme said decisively.

"Esme!" Bella gasped. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, hush. I can afford it. It'll be fun," she said in a soothing voice. "Now, what do you think about this ball? It's awfully pretty." She paused, then added in a bewildered voice, "Although it feels heavier than six pounds."

"Um, I think that's a nine," the dark haired guy said condescendingly.

Bella was a bit confused. Edward had claimed that his mother was an avid bowler, but the woman beside her didn't look like she was going to manage anything more than gutterballs, even without the three cocktails she had consumed.

She reluctantly found a ball and helped the blond, his name was Bret, add their names to the lineup. All of her fears were realized by the second frame. She was a mediocre bowler at best, rarely getting a spare, let alone a strike. Esme handled the bowling ball like it was a watermelon, thumping it onto the lane with both hands. Surprisingly, her accuracy was quite good and she knocked down more pins than Bella. Bret and his suave roommate Xander racked up points almost twice as fast as they did. When they hit the tenth frame, Bella and Esme had a total score of 196, and the guys were at 315.

"Nice game, ladies. Really great effort," Xander crowed. Once he had realized how bad they were, he had begun ordering the most expensive drinks on the menu. By the end of the game, he was nursing his second top-shelf Long Island iced tea and strutting like a peacock.

His friend was a better sport, offering to reshelf Bella and Esme's bowling balls.

"Actually," Esme said, "it's still early. We can stick around for one more game, if you want. Double or nothing?"

Esme's eyes were wide and non-threatening. Xander snorted around a mouthful of his drink and agreed without hesitation.

"Esme, come on," Bella pleaded.

"Darling, you have got to learn to have fun!" Esme scolded.

"Bret, your turn, man!" Xander prodded.

Bret took his turn and clinched a spare. Bella followed with a gutterball but sprang back with eight pins on her second bowl. Xander practically swaggered up to the line and bowled a bullet that left the 10-pin teetering on the edge. When it didn't fall, he groaned but gallantly motioned Esme to take her place.

Esme paused for a moment, allowing the girl in the next lane to go first, then took two quick steps and swept her ball down the lane in a wicked hook that sent pins flying in every direction. At first, the only sound was a gurgling wheeze as Xander accidentally inhaled his drink. Bella couldn't believe what she was seeing. Bowlers in the adjacent lanes sent up a round of congratulations, and a shell-shocked Bret took Esme's place by the ball return to start the second frame.

With shaking hands, he took his turn, managing to sink three pins with his first bowl and two more with his second. Feeling energized, Bella knock down eight pins, but could only hit one more with the split. Xander knocked down four, then fumbled his second bowl and watched in disbelief as is tumbled into the gutter.

Bella suppressed a smile as Esme carefully rolled up the sleeves of her blouse and reset her hair. By the third frame, She had amassed a crowd of onlookers. Bella's bowling remained as mediocre as it had always been. Bret and Xander's game only got worse.

By the end of the game, Esme had bowled eight strikes, two spares and two niners. Her final score was 223. Even without Bella's 106 points, they had clearly beaten the guys. A semi-circle of fans clustered around the lane to congratulate them. White faced and looking a little ill, Xander handed his credit card to their server.

"Oh, sweetie. Don't worry about it. That was a nasty trick I played on you. Go home and sleep it off. I've got this one," Esme said, patting him gently on the shoulder. She gave him back his card and slipped a stack of bills into the check folder.

Bella stifled a chuckle, racked their balls and returned her hideous bowling shoes in exchange for her brown pumps.

"If only I'd had my ball with me," Esme sighed, as they took the escalator back down to the lobby.

"Esme Platt Cullen, you're a real piece of work, you know that?"

"The little peacock needed to be taught a lesson. And you can't deny that you had a good time."

"I wouldn't dare," Bella laughed.

"Excellent. You've now graduated from Having Fun 101. We'll discuss the follow-on course over lunch tomorrow."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Hush, you. Now get in the car. I need to get back to my hotel and call my man."

Esme dropped Bella off in front of her building. Still fighting a smile, she dug her keys out of her purse and jogged up the front steps. She cried out and stumbled backwards when a figure in a dark coat stepped out in front of her.

"It's okay. It's just me."

"Mike. . .?"

* * *

_A/N: Step in line if you want to kick Mike in the junk._


	35. Full Circle

_A/N: Here's a quick follow up to that little cliffie. Some of you called it right on the money. Oh, Mike. . . If you could only know how many people want to kick you in the junk right now. . ._

* * *

Bella caught her balance, but not her breath. Her heart was shuddering like an impact driver.

"What are you doing here?" she asked. At first, her disbelief was even greater than her anger.

"I had to talk to you. I'm so sorry for scaring you. It's just. . . well. . . You weren't returning my calls. And. . . well, I kind of need the ring back. The jeweler has a 12-month return or exchange policy and I only have a few weeks left. I thought it would be tacky to propose to Jessica with the same ring, you know?"

She narrowed her eyes as he stuttered out his explanation. Strange how she used to find his social blundering endearing. Now it just made him look obnoxious and weak.

"I. . . wow. . . tacky. Yeah. We wouldn't want that, now, would we?" she replied flatly.

"Shoot. That's not how I meant that to come out. Gosh, you must hate me."

"I don't hate you, Mike."

She wasn't saying it to reassure him. It was the truth. Sort of. But despising someone was only a little bit tamer than hate. She didn't want to kill him, but kicking him repeatedly would have felt pretty good right then.

"Wait. . . you don't? I thought for sure. . ."

"It's freezing out here. Just come in," Bella huffed, embarrassed to be having this conversation outside.

"Thanks, Bella. I told Jessica you would understand."

Her steps faltered, but she kept walking. When she unlocked the door to her apartment, she heard Mike gasp behind her. She gritted her teeth in preparation for more inane commentary.

"What did you do? Where is everything? You aren't moving back in with your dad, are you?"

"As a matter of fact, I am moving. But not back to Forks. When I came back, Emmett offered me a promotion. I'm house hunting right now. I'm not ready to put in an offer on anything quite yet, but in the mean time I thought it would be good to lighten up. Make moving day easier when it does arrive."

"Wow. That's really great. Good for you."

The words were nice, but the delivery was stilted. Mike stood in the middle of the living room and rubber necked, obviously looking for anything familiar. When his eyes slipped to her open bedroom door, he blushed.

Disgusted, Bella retrieved the ring from its place of exile, rinsed the sticky wine residue off in the kitchen sink and set it back down on the corner of the counter with a loud clink. She couldn't think of anything to say, so she found a rag and wiped up the drops of water around the sink.

"I. . . thanks," he said, looking back and forth between Bella and the ring.

She didn't understand her body's reactions. Her face felt hot, and her hands trembled. Was it anger? Or did she miss him? Shouldn't it hurt more to imagine him walking down the aisle with a different girl? She wiped harder, determined to get every drop. This ring exchange was impersonal. Cold. Nothing like the night when he had first placed in on her finger just a few feet away from where they stood now. They had come full circle. Counter clockwise.

Finally, Mike plucked the ring out of the water that had pooled around it and tucked it into his pocket. He cleared his throat.

"I told my mom. Last night. Have you spoken to her?"

Bella shrugged. She'd seen the calls but had chosen to ignore them.

"She's pretty angry. At me, I mean. But I don't want her to take it out on Jessica. It's not her fault. It's totally mine. She honestly had no idea."

"I really don't want to be having this conversation with you, Mike."

"I'm sorry. I know. And I know I don't have any right to ask you for anything, but I was hoping. . . if you do talk with my mom. . . maybe you could tell her that Jess wasn't. . . she didn't. . ." He ran both hands through his short blond hair. "I just don't want my parents to reject her. They really wanted me to marry you. They love you. Everyone does."

"Everyone except you?" Bella challenged him, her bitterness welling up inside her chest.

"I. . . I never stopped caring for you. It's just that. . . I want to be number one in someone's life. I don't think I ever have been number one in yours. Not really. We were great as friends, but when I look back, it's obvious that neither of us was really in love with the other. It took meeting Jess to make me see that. I'm sorry. I like you, Bella. I really do. It's just that liking isn't enough. Not any more. . ." he finished, his voice tapering off awkwardly.

He was right. He was a fucking coward and an asshole, but he was right. She didn't love him, either. It had taken meeting Edward to show her that. If their roles had been reversed. . . If she had met Edward while she was still with Mike. . . If Rosalie and Emmett had introduced them. . . If, if, if. Would she have had the courage to end things with Mike to pursue the man who really made her heart pound?

She didn't know.

That thought sickened her. Maybe Edward was right in his assessment of her. If she had met him while she was still with Mike, she would have been tempted, sorely tempted, to cheat. Would she have succumbed to her attraction to Edward and put him in the very position he currently despised her for? Made him into that man, the other man, the guy she cheated with.

She liked to think that she would have had the courage to end things with Mike. Obviously, courage and self-control hadn't been high on her list of strong points lately. Neither had honesty. Looking into her own heart, she didn't know what she would have done. That made it very hard to hate her ex-fiance. But she still wanted him gone.

"Good bye, Mike."

She could feel the tears starting again. Tears of betrayal and regret. Tears of guilt. Bewilderment. Loneliness. It was too much to process with him standing there staring at her mournfully. She needed him to leave. Immediately.

Mike hesitated in the doorway. This would be the last time they ever saw one another. That truth hung heavy between them. This was really the end.

"Good bye, Bells. Merry Christmas."

"Yeah. Merry Christmas," she whispered as the door swung shut behind him.


	36. Lunch Menu

_Writer's Block. Yeah, it sucks. Thanks for your patience!_

* * *

Bella was jolted awake by the sound of Alice pounding her fist on Bella's bedroom door.

"Wake up! Wake up, girlie!"

"Oh, my gosh, Alice. My alarm is set to go off in less than 10 minutes. Why did I ever give you a key to my place?" she groaned, pulling the pillow firmly over her head.

"So someone could water your plants whenever you go out of town."

"I don't have any plants," Bella protested.

"But if you did. . ." Alice dodged nimbly to one side as Bella's pillow flew past her head.

"Fine. I'm awake. Happy?"

"Absolutely. Oh. Wow. That's beautiful. Where is it from?"

Bella looked up at the sketch that hung above her bed and sighed, "Edward gave that to me. Before the whole nuclear explosion, of course. I mentioned that he's an architect and an artist, right?"

"And that he's flying here pretty much right after Christmas. Yeah. We covered all that. Why do you think I'm here? I couldn't sleep last night, so I finished the alterations. It's time for Sexy Bella to make her debut at the office." Alice proceeded to hang several items up in Bella's closet.

"You didn't sleep at all? That means that you're going to be caffeinated all day. Don't forget that you're meeting Jacob later this morning. You're gonna drive him completely out of his mind."

"As long as I have somewhere to focus my energy, it's fine. He'll be fine. I promise."

"You're already giving me a headache, and I actually like you."

"Or I could take it all back," Alice mused, with her hand poised halfway in the closet, frozen in the act of hanging up a skirt..

"Oh, Alice. You know I'm hopeless without you."

"Yeeees. I do."

"Shut up," Bella laughed, burying her face in her mattress. "I have to tell you about last night."

"With that preamble, I know it was either really good, or really bad," Alice commented as she climbed onto the bed beside her friend.

"Both. I hung out with Edward's mom, Esme, last night after work. She took me bowling."

"You hate bowling."

"I don't hate it. I'm just no good at it," Bella corrected her.

"And. . ."

"Esme hustled these two guys. I'm not even exaggerating. She played up this old biddy character for an entire game, then tricked them into betting on the outcome of the next game. As soon as we started the second game, she was bowling strikes like every single time. You should have seen these guys. One of them was a cocky jerk named Xander. When they won the first game, he was preening. Then, when he realized he got played, he turned into a twitchy, sweaty mess. I felt so bad for him. His ego was shattered."

"Sounds like he deserved it."

"Oh, he did. I was just blown away by her. She's gutsy. And hilarious. I hope you get to meet her. Of course, if the truth about me and Edward ever comes out, I doubt she'll ever want to talk to me again." Bella's voice turned despondent. "She's already worried about him. The other day, she was telling Emmett that Edward's been acting strangely for the last several days. Do you know how hard it is to sit there pretending you have no idea what the people around you are talking about when you know ten times more than them? And, to top it off, you know you're the one at fault? I feel like a hypocrite and an asshole."

"You're neither one of those. Give yourself a break, Bella. You're just overwhelmed. Esme sounds wonderful. I wish I could have seen that," Alice giggled. "So, if that's the good part, what's the bad part?"

"When I got home, Mike was waiting on the steps downstairs."

"Do you need help hiding the body?" Alice raised both eyebrows expectantly.

"Tempting, but no. He came by because he wanted the ring back so he can exchange it for a new one," Bella answered, wincing in anticipation of Alice's response.

"Doesn't he have any class?" Her voice rose in pitch and volume. "You know what? I'm enlisting your help to dispose of the body."

"We're not offing him, Alice," Bella laughed. "Although I am still shaking my head at the whole thing."

"What did you do?"

"I gave it to him, of course. I mean, what was I going to do with it? Looking at it made me want to drink myself into oblivion half the time and murder him the other half. Besides, he was right about a lot of things. He said we were both settling. I still want to strangle him for not telling me sooner. I wasted so much of my life with him! And so much money trying to patch up the rough spots when things got rocky."

"Are things better?" Alice asked in a serious tone.

Bella thought for a moment before replying. "They're getting there. But if I don't hurry up, I'm going to be late for work," she finished in a rush when she saw the time on her clock. Bella hopped off the bed and ran into the bathroom.

"I'll get the coffee started," Alice called through the locked door. "Wear the purple dress I made last winter with the gray double-breasted jacket. And the black boots."

"Boots? To work?"

"Classy, sexy, fun. It works. Now, get going!"

Forty minutes later, Alice dropped Bella off at the loading zone in front of the McCarthy building. She had borrowed her father's car to transport Bella's wardrobe additions and needed to return it so he could make it to a doctor's appointment. Bella blew her a kiss and scurried into the lobby to get out of the cold.

"Hold the elevator," a familiar voice called.

"Esme," Bella greeted her with a grin.

"Look at you! I love those boots. Very cute."

"Thanks. Alice seems to be on the same mental wavelength as you. She's pushing me to loosen up and have a little fun with my fashion decisions. I'm trying, but I actually feel a little awkward coming into the office like this."

"I really have to meet this girl," Esme laughed. "And don't worry. You look incredible. If I were twenty years younger I would steal those boots right off your feet."

They were both laughing as they exited the elevator on Emmett's floor and checked in with Mandy.

"Mr. McCarthy called a few minutes ago. He's running a little behind schedule. He said to start without him. The files are on the shared drive."

"Is everything okay?" Bella asked, concerned that there might be something wrong with Rosalie or the baby.

"Everything's fine. He was just dropping off his car at the body shop."

"That's right. I forgot about the accident. We'll set up in his office, if that's okay."

"Absolutely," Mandy smiled over her glasses and waved them through.

Bella and Esme pulled up the documents Mandy had prepared for them and began their project-by-project recap, updating their notes with the progress that had been made that week, along with their goals for the next two weeks.

"We really aren't going to accomplish much over the holidays, are we?" Bella asked, disappointed that so many city offices were closed or under-staffed.

"It happens every year. You get used to it. Think of it as a mandatory vacation. We'll ramp up so fast after the New Year that you'll wish you'd had more of a respite, I promise."

Inside her own head, Bella disagreed. But then she remembered her house-hunting plans and decided that a slower period might be nice after all. Checking out condos would be a welcome distraction as she counted down the days to Edward's arrival. Ten days. . . it simultaneously felt too soon and not soon enough.

Emmett joined them a few minutes later, and they quickly brought him up to speed. When they reached the final property, he took a deep breath, stretched his arms wide and yawned. "What do you need me for? This looks great. I feel like I'm drafting in the back of the pack."

"Just keep signing the checks," Esme replied cheekily.

"Yes, ma'am."

"How's Rosalie?" Bella asked.

"She was still asleep when I left. She's having trouble getting to sleep at night, then she's exhausted all morning. She says it's because she doesn't get enough activity. I think I'm going to be here in the mornings and stick close to home in the afternoons. I'm buying a wheelchair so we can go on walks. I want her to be able to get some fresh air without breaking the rules or tiring her out too much."

"That's very thoughtful," Esme said. "When my sister was put on bedrest with Edward, the inactivity took its toll. Most people don't realize, but bedrest is emotionally taxing."

Bella sat up straight in her chair, caught off guard and confused. Neither Esme nor Emmett took notice. They were engrossed in their conversation.

"Especially when your name is Rosalie," Emmett laughed. "Even so, call me any time," he added, patting the phone on his belt. "Even if I'm not in the building, I'm ready to help."

"We will," Bella smiled, wondering if Rosalie would be able to answer her questions about Edward's family history. Surely she had known him almost as long as Emmett. Bella was hungry for information about Edward, but didn't know how to ask without making a fool of herself. "Emmett, I'm shopping for a condo. Alice is going to help me hunt for the actual property, but maybe Rosalie can help with online research and picking out furnishings." Perhaps Rosalie could be persuaded to talk about her husband's friend in between picking out lamps and bookcases.

"Be careful. She loves Pottery Barn. You might find yourself taking out a line of credit just to furnish your bedroom," he warned her with a chuckle.

"But she also loves to haggle. If I turn her loose on Craigslist and eBay, she'll be able to take her cabin fever out on complete strangers."

"I'm liking the sounds of this plan. Okay, ladies, I've got to kick you out. I've got an investor cooling his heels in the lobby."

"Bye, darling. I'll see you tomorrow at 9 for breakfast," Esme said, squeezing his hand as she stood to go.

Bella waved to Emmett and followed Esme out. "So you're flying out this weekend?"

"Early Sunday morning. We're having a few of Carlisle's colleagues over for dinner that night. A little pre-Christmas cheer."

"You don't sound too cheerful or excited," Bella observed.

"Well. . . They aren't exactly a fun-loving crowd. Too serious. It's dreary. Last night now. . . that was a good time."

"So you aren't going to be serving onion rings and burgers?" Bella giggled.

"Hmm. Now there's an idea. I would love to see Jane's face if I handed her a platter of fried food. She always has a pinched and puckered look about her. A bit of grease might be just what she needs."

"You're absolutely devious."

"I'm absolutely charming. . . when I have to be," Esme said archly, and pushed the down arrow. "Now, this friend of yours at DPD, what's his name again?"

"Brett Low. Great guy, total sweetheart. His wife is a branch manager at a local bank. It's so cute. They have these matching candy dishes on their reception counters. They've had an ongoing competition since they started dating to see who could give away more candy. Believe it or not, contractors and developers eat way more candy than bank patrons and their kids. Almost two to one."

"If she's always losing, why do they keep competing?"

"Well. . . The loser has to go on a date with the winner. That's how he got her to go out with him the first time."

"Okay. I have to agree. That is very sweet," Esme said. "I'm guessing you help him win. What's your favorite candy?"

"Butterscotch," Bella responded instantly.

"I knew somebody had to eat those things, otherwise why would they sell them? I'm a peppermint girl."

"Yes you are," Bella laughed, stepping out into the lobby.

"And what exactly was that supposed to mean, young lady?"

"Oh, Esme. . . you know exactly what I meant," Bella teased, holding the door open for the older women to pass in front of her. Esme just scowled.

They walked several blocks south along 5th Avenue until they reached the municipal building, sitting in the shadow of the Columbia Tower. Bella pointed out her apartment building near the top of the hill as they passed University Street. She described the history of some of the buildings they passed, including two projects she had been involved in during her internship. Esme absorbed it all, matching the brick and mortar reality to the map table mock up. Her eyes were shining with childlike enthusiasm by the time they reached their destination.

"Phew. These boots were not made for walking," Bella sighed as they rode up to the 20th floor.

"We could have driven," Esme said, concern creasing her brow.

"It's fine. I shouldn't complain, really. Besides, walking is faster than driving a lot of the time when you take into account lights, one-way streets and parking."

"I'm happy to schedule a cab to take us back. We'll get lunch after this and be lazy for an hour."

"More of your 'have fun and unwind' mantra?"

"You have so much still to learn," Esme said with a wink.

Their consultation with Brett went quickly, and they decided on a restaurant just a block away from McCarthy. When the cab dropped them in front of the Palamino restaurant, Bella was grateful. They had only walked three quarters of a mile earlier, but her feet were sore. The hostess got them settled in a booth with menus and ice water.

"I'm going to run to the bathroom. I'll be right back," Bella said.

As she washed her hands, Bella checked over her reflection. The gray jacket was long in the arms and short in the torso, stopping just below her ribs. With the fuller skirt, it made her waist look tiny. And the boots, as uncomfortable as they were to walk long distances in, really did give her a sassy, no-nonsense look. There was color in her cheeks, and her hair, still damp from the winter drizzle, escaped in wild tendrils from her hair clip. Bella released the barrette and shook her head, letting her hair fall loose around her shoulders.

"Who are you?" Bella asked, in a whisper.

She didn't have it together, not the way she used to. Not the way she did while she was with Mike. Her life was unrecognizable from two weeks earlier, but not everything about the transformation was bad. She didn't know the girl in the mirror, and that was a little bit scary. However, she was fascinated by her. She wanted to get to know her.

This new Bella could drink and go bowling on a work night. She could ditch her suit for a day and strut down the sidewalk in high-heeled boots. She could let her hair down and not give a shit about what people thought. . . Who knew what else she might do? Maybe she had the courage to call Edward Masen and tell him the truth.

Esme was on her cell phone when Bella sat back down. She picked up the lunch menu and told herself to choose something unique, something that would normally make her uncomfortable. Esme had already ordered glasses of white wine for both of them. Bella usually avoided seafood because of the strong flavors, so the clam linguine was perfect. Adventurous without being too scary.

"No, I'm not at the office. I'm having lunch with a friend," Esme was saying. She rolled her eyes toward her phone and smirked. Bella giggled quietly, munching on a piece of bread between sips of wine.

"I don't know. It has a horse on it."

"Palamino," Bella provided. "Italian."

"The Palamino. It's an Italian restaurant." Esme gave a long-suffering sigh. "Of course I'll tell you how it is. Although why you can't just read the reviews online, I don't know. Yes. . . of course. I love you, too. See you in a couple days." Esme hung up, shaking her head. "Men. Always asking questions."

Bella laughed along with her. Esme was everything she had always wanted in an older sister or an aunt. She was charming but irreverent. Beautiful and classy, but gave the impression that she would be just as comfortable in sneakers as pumps.

When she had first read Esme Platt Cullen's resume, Bella had been intimidated. Now, she felt almost as comfortable in Esme's presence as she did with Rosalie and Alice. Esme possessed a special gift, a nurturing, playful, wonderful gift. Once they had placed their orders, Bella gathered her courage to ask Esme about her earlier comments in Emmett's office.

"Well, spit it out."

"What?" Bella started guiltily.

"Something is on your mind. What's bothering you?" Esme prodded kindly.

"Nothing's wrong, I was just confused about something you said earlier. About your sister and your son, Edward."

"It's no secret, darling. I couldn't have children. Carlisle and I tried, but fertility treatments thirty years ago were nowhere close to as advanced as they are today. Even with modern science, I don't know if there would have been anything they could do for me. I got pregnant once, but I lost him. For twenty three weeks I held him close to my heart, but he wasn't meant for this world."

Esme took a slow sip of wine before continuing. "Carlisle's best friend, Edward, was a neat guy. A bit intense, but kind-hearted and very intelligent. He met my sister at a hospital social event. Elizabeth was tagging along because our parents were worried that she was never going to meet anybody. She was always in her studio, drawing and painting. She never wanted to leave the house. It scared them. When Elizabeth met Edward, she became a completely different person. He gave her life focus and meaning. She discovered a true passion for easing the suffering of mankind. Edward Masen was a good man. Such a good man. I couldn't have asked for a better friend for my husband, or partner for my little sister."

"After he graduated from medical school, Edward traveled to Africa with a team of medical professionals every year providing care to people living in underserved and isolated villages. When they got married, Elizabeth went with him. The year she got pregnant with Edward was so difficult for her. Edward refused to allow her to join him on his annual trip. It was too dangerous, and she was already having a difficult pregnancy. Cramping, bleeding, anemia. Her doctors ordered her to stay in bed. She fought them at first. She was so strong spirited, as fiery as her hair. But, knowing of my loss, she finally caved. For weeks and weeks she did nothing but draw. She drew our family members, Edward, the children and parents she had nursed on their previous trips. She filled almost a dozen sketchbooks. I still have them. Every one.

"Edward returned less than a week before the baby came. He was exhausted and heartbroken. It had been a terrible trip. A doctor can only do so much to counteract the effects of chronic starvation. Without food, and with contaminated water sources, the physicians and nurses on that expedition had been forced to set bones they knew would never heal, prescribe dietary improvements that the villagers could never fill, and help dozens of women deliver babies, only to watch them weaken and die for lack of milk.

"That trip changed him. Edward vowed not to return unless he could fund his own trip, bringing in supplies to assist the villagers and establish real stability and independence in the communities they visited. Food is medicine, he said. Without the right equipment, dependable water sources and knowledge, food would always be the problem. For five years, Elizabeth and Edward lived with us, and we all took turns staying home with little Edward. He could so easily have turned into a spoiled brat, but he never did. He was an old soul. A trusting, loving, sweet boy. And I treasured him.

"Elizabeth shared him selflessly. I don't know. . . maybe she knew. Maybe she saw the future. All I know is that the day he became mine was both the best and the worst day of my existence. Edward had just turned five years old. Elizabeth gave him his very own set of charcoal pencils for his birthday. I watched her teach him how to add shadows to an image to bring it to life. That boy picked it up as naturally as breathing. I remember Edward teasing her about it, asking if he should give the boy one of his stethoscopes to make it fair. She retorted that he had already saddled their son with his name, the least they could do was offer him one outlet for self-expression."

Esme was smiling at the memory, but there were tears in her eyes. She thanked their waiter as he set out their plates and refilled their glasses.

"A few months earlier, Edward and Elizabeth had finally reached their fundraising goal. Five years of scrimping and saving, soliciting donations from colleagues and neighbors. They recruited another orthopedic surgeon, a plastic surgeon, several nurses, aides, a dietician, translators, an entire team of professionals whose hearts were too big to live fat and happy in America while children starved and died from infections and treatable injuries.

"Little Edward, he was so cute. He wanted to go, too. Since he couldn't make the trip, he insisted on helping his way. His kindergarten class put together their own donations of books, paper, crayons, pencils and toys for the team to distribute. We saw them off at the airport, so excited for what they were doing. It was a victorious, exuberant day. I sometimes wonder if I would have said anything else to my little sister before she got on that plane. If I'd known. Her last words to me were, "Take care of our boy." We hugged, one big, crazy bundle of arms and legs. She kissed his forehead three times, just like she did every night when she tucked him in. Three kisses, and she was gone forever."

Esme smiled wistfully. "We received the news eight weeks later. Influenza. A virulent strain to which the team had almost zero resistance. It decimated the encampment. Out of 23 people, 20 got sick, and nine died. When Edward passed away, Elizabeth was already delirious with fever. She followed him that same day. They had taken every precaution before their departure, updating their wills, assigning us as their son's guardians, even purchasing several life insurance policies, naming him as their beneficiary. Maybe they knew how it would end, if not that trip, then another, however many years down the line. I can't even be angry at them. They had witnessed such suffering, they couldn't ignore it. And they gave me Edward. I will always be grateful for that."

Bella wiped her eyes, grieving along with her friend, finally understanding how Edward, a complete stranger, could empathize with her so perfectly over the loss of her own mother. Alice and Edward, two children who had grown up as adoptees. She had formed an instantaneous bond with both of them, as if their souls, existing outside of time, recognized that pain and loss in one another and sought to heal it.

For the thousandth time, Bella thought back to her actions with regret. Why had she let things go so far, so fast? If she hadn't slept with Edward in Chicago, she would have been sitting across from him right now. Working alongside him. Getting to know him. She picked at her food, biting her lip pensively.

"I'm sorry. That's awfully heavy fare for lunch."

"Esme, please don't apologize. I asked, for one thing. Thank you for sharing your memories with me. I feel. . . I feel as if I know Edward already. Hearing about him from you and Emmett, I'm looking forward to working with him. He sounds like an amazing person."

"He i-" Esme paused, a look of surprise on her face. "You little scamp!" she cried, looking over Bella's right shoulder.

Bella turned to see who she was talking to, and time stopped.

* * *

_We all know that Bella HATES surprises..._


	37. Second Chance, First Impression

_A/N: Still more than 2 weeks left to write for the **Red-Eyed-Edward Contest!** We love us some blood-thirsty vampires! Deadline is 10/24. If you've been thinking about entering the contest, or just want to stretch your writing muscles, give it a try! I occasionally Beta, so if you need one, let me know. :)_

_Thanks for reading!_

* * *

Bella had imagined meeting him again a thousand different ways since she had fled Chicago. Even so, turning around and seeing Edward here now, breathing her air, standing in the same room, it was surreal and terrifying.

Eight days. It had felt more like eight years. She saw his eyes every time she shut her own. She felt his touch like the ghost of a memory in the shower, as she walked down the sidewalk, as she lay broken and needing him in her bed every single night. She could still smell and taste him, like the essence of him was branded on every sense, every nerve in her body.

When her eyes met his, those nerves screamed out in longing. His eyes widened, first with surprise, then a barrage of conflicting emotions. Excitement. Fear. Desire. Horror. Hunger. Outrage. Then an impenetrable mask of cold indifference slipped over his features.

Bella inhaled shakily and turned back to face the table. Esme's expression had shifted from surprise to concern. Bella's hand shook as she grabbed her glass and drained it. She sucked in a deep breath and forced a smile onto her face. "I have to assume that my new coworker has arrived ahead of schedule."

"Yes. Let's find out why, shall we? I've been dying to introduce you. Edward! Stop dragging your feet. Come and meet Bella."

Bella set her glass down and swallowed hard. A tall figure filled her peripheral vision. She looked up at the man of her dreams, the source of her nightmares, and her lips trembled. "Edward. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. I trust you had a safe flight?" She took care to maintain a neutral, civil tone, just like she had in her email introduction.

One eyebrow arched up, and he smirked, but the expression was completely devoid of humor. "A pleasure. Of course. Emmett speaks very highly of you. It seems he's taken quite a leap of faith putting someone of your age and experience in his seat. But desperate times. . . well, you know. Emmett has always been a bit of a risk taker. This should be entertaining, at the very least."

His obvious antipathy hurt even more than she expected it to. Bella's eyes darted to her friend's face. Esme looked shocked and confused. She met Bella's gaze with an apologetic look. "So much for first impressions. Honestly, he's not usually such an ass."

"Really, Mom?"

"Well. . ."

"Huh," Edward grunted, darkly. He sat next to his mom and kissed her on the cheek. "Sorry I dropped in on you unannounced like this. When you said you were having lunch with a friend, I'm afraid I assumed you meant someone you had known for more than a few days."

"Darling, haven't I managed to teach you anything at all? You don't have to know a person more than five minutes to realize they are a kindred spirit. I fell in love with your dad in a lot less than five minutes. But forget that. I thought I had at least taught you to be a gentleman."

"Ha. Hardly. Dad taught me to be a gentleman. You taught me how to cheat at whist."

"Poh-tay-toh, poh-tah-toh. Eh! Cut it out!," she swatted his hand when he reached for a piece of bread. "Order your own food. And stop acting like a heathen. You're embarrassing yourself."

Bemused and still feeling blindsided, Bella watched the mother and son interacting. God, she missed her mom. And, even though she tried, she couldn't reconcile the animosity Edward directed at her with the playful, irreverent banter he shared with Esme. Yet again, she was forced to acknowledge that she barely knew the man. There were layers to his personality. So much goodness, but also moments of intense pain, anger and fear. There was a lot more to Edward Masen that what he had chosen to share with her. She had only gotten glimpses, really. Flickering shadows of the darkness that he hid from those closest to him.

Edward looked up, and their eyes locked. She saw something that gave her hope. A tiny hint of tenderness and regret before the doors slammed shut again. He reached out again, ignoring Esme's scolding, and snagged a slice of bread. He took a bite, chewing as he watched her speculatively.

"What?" Bella asked, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

"You look different than I expected."

"What did you expect? Or rather, what do you see?"

"I expected to meet a young woman who realizes that she just stepped into shoes about five sizes too big. Because, let's face it, a few years in this game can't hold a candle to two or three generations. I expected to see someone a little shell shocked. Overwhelmed. Out of her depth. Maybe even a little bit emotional."

He took another bite and leaned back in the seat. Esme looked like she was about to say something, but Edward started talking again immediately, so she bit her tongue and darted an apologetic glance at Bella. She pulled out her phone and started typing out a message, scowling and shaking her head as Edward carried on.

"This is what confuses me. I find myself sitting across from a woman who, to all outward appearances, is on top of her game. Smart. Gorgeous. Polished. Goal oriented. I see a woman with a tough-as-nails game face, and I have to wonder, what's real and what is for show? Because, any normal person in your position would be showing a little more emotion and vulnerability." His eyes were piercing. He chewed and swallowed, waiting for her to reply.

Esme spoke up before Bella could respond, setting her phone down with a thud. "That's enough, Edward. You are being a complete jerk. Now that you've managed to insult my friend, your best friend's most trusted employee and your future coworker, you can apologize and call your dad. I'm sure he'll have some choice words for you."

Less than two seconds later, Edward's phone started ringing and he pulled it out of his jacket pocket. "Tag-teaming your son. Awesome. Thanks, Mom," he glowered, stood up and answered his phone.

Bella watched his back as he walked away. She was afraid to look at Esme and see the disappointment or accusations there. Unable to put it off any longer, she met the older woman's gaze.

"I'm not blind. I wasn't born yesterday, or even last decade. I don't know what's going on between you and my son, but you're both hurting. Be kind to him. More importantly, be kind to yourself. Do those two things, and you'll be surprised how quickly a hopeless situation can resolve itself."

"I'm sorry, Esme. I didn't know how to tell you. . ." Bella sighed, shaking her head.

"Words, Isabella. They aren't always the most precise tools, but they get the job done. Now, how do you feel about dessert. The table behind you just ordered the Creme Brulee, and it looks delicious. No? Too much?"

"I don't have a very big appetite right now," Bella confessed, shaking her head.

"Yes, well, a soldier eats and sleeps when he can. You can learn a lot from soldiers," she said, not unkindly. "I'm having a bowl of gelato."

Feeling like she had just been offered forgiveness, or maybe a blessing, Bella nodded her acquiescence. She poked her last shrimp with her fork and raised it to her lips. As her mouth closed around the tines, she looked up. Across the room, leaning against the far wall with his phone against his ear, Edward was watching her with haunted, hurting eyes.

He looked different than she expected, too. In one week he had gone from vibrant and strong to exhausted and gaunt. He had deep, dark circles beneath his eyes and, although he was clean shaven and dressed in a nice suit, there was something very scattered and lackluster about his image. It broke Bella's heart a little more to see him like that. And, if she was being completely honest with herself, it terrified her to realize that she would be working alongside somebody who bore her so much anger and resentment. She was going to need every ounce of positive reinforcement she could get.

She looked down, redirecting her attention to the dessert menu. "You're right, Esme. The raspberry gelato looks delicious."

"I usually am," Esme winked.

* * *

_Gosh, I just love Esme. And I kind of want to slap my main characters and steal their desserts. If you're ever in Seattle, the Palamino has the BEST food. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, it's all phenomenal._


	38. Boomerang

_Thank you for all your incredible reviews. Welcome, new readers!_

* * *

"Ms. Swan, I apologize. My earlier behavior toward you was unpardonable. Please forgive me," Edward spoke stiffly at her elbow.

Bella froze, her gelato-laden spoon two thirds of the way to her mouth. Her eyes flicked from Esme's thoughtful expression to the carefully blank look on Edward's face.

"I. . . Thank you, Edward." She lowered her spoon back to her bowl. "I know how things must appear on the surface. Maybe we can talk later."

"Maybe." He sat back down beside Esme, his fingers tearing fitfully at a piece of bread.

Maybe? Well, it was a start. "Okay. That's great. And please, call me Bella," she asked, missing the sound of him saying her name.

"I'd rather not," he replied.

"Oh. . . okay," Bella flinched. It felt like a slap. The bowl of her spoon sank into the pool of melting gelato. She wasn't a soldier. No force on earth could have given her the strength to take another bite.

Their waiter appeared again. "Is there anything I can get for you, sir?" he asked Edward.

"No thanks. Once the ladies are finished with their desserts, I think we're done here."

"Excellent. Please, no rush," the man said, producing a black folder with the bill.

Before either woman could react, Edward was handing over his bank card. Bella recognized the card as the same one he had used on their dates. Dates? Could she call them that?

His eyes flicked to hers. She bit her lip and looked down. There was a tiny hill of pulverized breadcrumbs on the table in front of him. Clearing his throat, Edward brushed them into his palm and emptied the mess back into the bread basket.

The waiter returned and handed Edward the black check presenter. He withdrew his card, the receipt and a pen. Bella's eyes were drawn to his hands as Edward signed the receipt, his signature an elegant scrawl. He slipped the card back into his wallet and stood abruptly. "Ladies, I'll be outside whenever you're ready."

Esme snorted under her breath and shook her head. "One extreme or the other," she muttered. If Edward heard her, he gave no indication. Bella shifted uncomfortably in her seat as the woman she had come to admire, appreciate and respect in so short a time eyed her critically.

"I think I'm going to have a cup of coffee. Something to charge me up before we bury ourselves in those contract revisions. I'll see you back at the office."

Bella shook her head in protest. "I really don't think he wants-"

"I love my son, but he's a man. He doesn't know what he wants. Go talk to him. Make him listen. You deserve his respect and patience. Then, when it's his turn, offer him the same thing."

Nodding, Bella wiggled out of the booth and retrieved her coat. This was going to be so uncomfortable. Would he even let her within arm's reach of him?

"Oh, and Bella?"

"Yes, Esme?"

"Iron this out quickly. My curiosity is damn near choking me to death."

Bella cracked a smile and nodded. "I'll try."

Bella approached the restaurant foyer, filled with trepidation. From among the people loitering on the sidewalk, she was able to identify Edward instantly. He had donned a winter overcoat and a lined fedora, but from this angle she could easily recognize the set of his shoulders, the sharp line of his jaw and the curl of auburn hair that barely touched his ears.

She exited the restaurant and came up beside him, burying her hands in her coat pockets. "Your mom decided she wanted a cup of coffee. She said to go ahead without her."

"Ha. Predictable," he mumbled. He turned toward the McCarthy building, and Bella fell into step beside him.

"She was surprised to see you. I think it meant a lot to her. That was a really sweet gesture, dropping in on her like that."

"You think so?"

"Yes. I do. She loves you so much. She's told me how proud she is of you in a hundred different ways. Concealing the truth about me and you felt horrible. I . . . I hated not telling her."

"The truth?"

"That I. . . knew you. That things might be. . . awkward for us working together."

"Awkward. That's fucking precious," he growled, his teeth clenched.

"Edward, please. Stop," she begged, stepping close against the wall and waiting for him to look at her.

He took two more steps before halting. The soles of his shoes scraped the pavement as he turned to face her. Other pedestrians slipped around and between them. His mouth was set in a grim line. He came closer, looking down at her with his shoulder brushing the wall.

"What?" he asked in a clipped tone.

"Edward, I've been trying to tell you that I'm sorry. I even called your number, but your roommate said you weren't home. When I left your apartment last week, I honestly thought I would never see you again. At the time, I believed that was the most painful feeling in the world. But then I found out who you were. Who you are to Emmett, who you will be to me. And the thought of seeing you every day, working across from you and knowing that you think the worst of me, that you despise me. . . it's too excruciating for words. There isn't anything in the world that I wouldn't give to take it all back. To rewind to the beginning and let you go about y-"

"Show me your hand," he cut her off sharply.

Choking on her unspoken words, Bella pulled her hands slowly from her coat pockets. Edward's gloved hand darted out, grabbing her left hand and pulling it closer. She couldn't read the emotions than ran across his face as he stared at her bare ring finger. His teeth were clenched hard enough to crush steel.

"I'm not engaged. Not any more. Mike. . . he ended things between us. Last week. That's why I was leaving Chicago. That's what I was running away from. . ." Her hand was shaking, but his grip was solid. Bella barreled on, "He showed up on my doorstep last night, asking for his ring back, so I gave it to him. I'm so sorry I didn't tell you before. . . before things went so far. And then I was angry and scared. . . I wasn't thinking clearly at all. I'm so, so sorry."

She didn't know what he was thinking. She couldn't tell if he believed her or not. When she felt his grip relax slightly, she pulled her hands back and shoved her frozen fists back into her pockets. Her eyes were burning again, from much more than the cold.

Without a word, he turned around and kept walking. Bella's jaw dropped. She jogged to catch up to him. "Wait up! Edward-"

"This changes nothing," he said when she came alongside him.

"What do you mean? This changes everything! D. . . Doesn't it?" she stammered, suddenly questioning things herself.

Her original fear had been that he would reject her once he realized that she had been dumped by Mike. Who would want to pick up somebody else's castoffs? Now that she was a little bit removed from her own shock and pain, she could see that he wasn't that kind of person. So what was his objection now?

His voice was raspy with pain as he explained, "It took me years to recover from having my heart torn out the last time. I didn't look at another woman for months. I didn't get past the second date for more than a year. And now, when I finally do get serious with a girl, I find out that she views commitment like a kid skipping rocks on the river. Wherever it lands, right? Sorry, honey, but I'm not going to be the one that sinks and drowns because of you."

"That's not it at all. . . I'm not like that!" she cried, grabbing onto his coat sleeve.

He let out a cynical chuckle. "Then what are you like? Because by your own admission, I was your rebound fling. The fact that we've been thrown back together by circumstance doesn't make me your boomerang by default. Now get your hand off of me."

Bella let go as if burned. He was too furious, or maybe too hurt, to hear her. How could she make him see the truth? She wasn't jumping from Mike, to him, then on to whomever else life threw in her path. She had come alive with him. For him. There would never be anyone else who touched her the way he had, not even if she lived to be more than one hundred years old.

When they reached McCarthy Commercial Partners, he held the door for her. His manners were crisp and polite again, but there was a chill between them, even colder than the December air.

She wasn't giving up that easily. Even if it took years to get him to warm up to her again, she had hope. Close enough to touch, but miles apart emotionally, they crossed the lobby to the bank of elevators. A warm, familiar voice pulled her out of her head and back to her surroundings. Bella looked over and let out a surprised laugh.

"Jake? Oh my gosh! When did you become hot?" Jacob was dressed in a black suit over a black shirt, with a narrow burgundy tie. Bella couldn't even believe her best friend had found a suit in his size, let alone one that fit him so well. His hair was smooth as gloss, pulled into a short braid in the back. He could have passed for a haute couture model, not a blue-collar construction worker who had dropped out of community college two classes shy of an associate degree. "Wow. Alice has worked another miracle!"

"The first one being you, of course," he laughed, pulling her into a tight hug.

"Jerk," Bella scolded, pulling back to slug him on one solid bicep. Remembering who was right behind her, Bella turned around to introduce her oldest friend to her. . . she couldn't even define Edward in her own head. "Edward, I'd like to introduce you to-"

"Thanks, but I'll pass," he growled, then stepped into the open elevator. His expression was livid. The air between them had gone from sub-zero to blistering. Bella watched in shock as the doors slid closed.

"Nice guy," Jake scoffed.

"I. . . um. . . yeah. Look. I'd better go. Good luck on your date tonight."

"Thanks, Bells. Take care."

"I'll try," she replied, feeling a flood of misery rising up her throat.

A cool, gentle hand slipped around hers. "That went well," Esme said with a smile.

"Wait. . . what? Where did you come from? I thought you were getting coffee!" Bella cried accusingly.

"I lied. Sue me," Esme replied, rolling her eyes.

"You think that went well? He despises me!" Bella moaned softly, allowing the older woman to pull her into the next elevator.

"Maybe. But he was also jealous as hell when you hugged that gorgeous Native American guy. Nice play. And you didn't even do it on purpose! I have to admit, I haven't seen that much emotion on my boy's face for a long, long time. If not being with you makes him that angry, imagine how happy he'll be when he changes his mind!"

Bella wiped her eyes carefully, trying to preserve her makeup. "Wow. Esme, you are. . ."

"Optimistic?"

"I was going to say insane."

Esme laughed. "I'm also right a vast majority of the time," she said slyly, nudging Bella until she cracked a watery smile. "That's better. Keep doing that. You're gorgeous when you smile."

* * *

_A/N: Who here loves Vampward? Head on over to the RedEyedEdward Contest page. Nothing fits with the __Halloween season better than some blood-soaked one-shots starring our very own Edward Cullen. They're still accepting entries until the 24th. Need a Beta? Yours Truly has been know to break out the red pen once in a while. ;) Send me a PM if you're interested._

_Thanks for reading!_


	39. Age and Beauty

As soon as the elevator doors closed, Esme switched the conversation back to business. They were down to the last few hours of working together before she flew back to her husband and her business responsibilities in Chicago. After Christmas, Edward would step back into the role that had been intended for him all along.

How was that going to work? Bella was certain that the only way to function as his business associate was to close all of her personal feelings into a box and lock it up tight. Minutes ago she had been optimistic, but the way he had jumped to conclusions about Jake had shown her just how prejudiced he was. If he was primed to see even the most innocent hug between friends as a personal insult, changing his mind would be a long and bitter struggle. Was it even worth it?

Her brain told her no. But her heart, her body, they craved him like a junkie craves her next fix.

Esme was surprisingly patient with her, despite the fact that Bella's attention drifted over and over. As the afternoon wore on, they shifted their focus to making sure the flow of communication and responsibilities between all parties was clearly mapped out. Until Edward was permanently settled into his new office, the bulk of that coordination would fall on Bella's shoulders. It was a whole new level of responsibility on top of her normal project management duties.

Esme was upstairs packing up her office, and Angela and most of the other staff had already gone home, when Emmett appeared in Bella's doorway later that evening. He was dressed casually in jeans and a black sweater. Edward was standing a few feet behind him looking like he would rather be anywhere else in the world.

"Hey Bella, thanks for everything you did this week. Esme hasn't stopped talking about how impressed she is with you. If I needed reassurance that I had made the right choice, she gave me plenty."

Bella felt her face turning pink, and she thanked her boss.

"Edward and Esme are joining Rosalie and me for breakfast tomorrow morning. I'm cooking my world famous hash brown casserole. You should join us."

Bella's eyes darted over to Edward's stony expression and back to Emmett's warm, blue eyes. "Thanks, really, but I have an appointment with my realtor to check out a few condos tomorrow morning. If Rose is up for company after lunch, Alice and I would love to stop by."

"I'm sure she would love that. Good luck with the house hunting. A homeowner. Wow. Can you believe it? It's like you're a real adult now," he teased.

"I can drink beer and vote, too, believe it or not," she replied with one eyebrow raised.

"As long as you vote the Republican ticket, that's okay with me."

"As if," Bella said with exaggerated indignation.

Emmett had been teasing her about her left wing leanings since she first started as an intern. Their relationship would have been an excellent model for bipartisan cooperation. Bella considered that fact. She worked very well with Emmett, despite their contrary ideologies. It was relatively easy to compartmentalize their friendship, their working relationship and their personal lives. As long as Edward cooperated, she could do the same with him.

"Well, we're cutting out. Hopefully we'll see you tomorrow."

"Right. Have a good night," Bella smiled.

Esme showed up right then, her rolling suitcase packed and ready for her return trip. When Esme pulled her into a tight hug, Bella's eyes automatically drifted to Edward's face. He was staring at the floor with a pained expression twisting his features. When they were gone, she sat back down at her desk and bit her lip until she tasted blood. Even if she didn't already have plans, there was no way she was going to subject either of them to the torture of sharing breakfast.

Back home, Bella ate a cold-cut sandwich while catching up on the news. The top stories were focused on the Seahawks' recent loss and their dismal chances in the NFL playoffs, along with updates on the hunt for a man suspected of multiple home invasions and sexual assaults. SPD was tentatively linking nine different cases spanning more than a year. The top story included footage of one of the victims describing her ordeal, her face in shadow, her voice disguised.

Bella was already feeling miserable. She couldn't take more negativity. She turned off the television and tossed the remains of her meal in the trash. Wasn't there anything carefree or beautiful in the world anymore?

The following morning, Bella picked Alice up from her house and drove to meet Laurent at the first condominium on his list. There was plenty of parking at the South Lake Union high rise and two other units were within walking distance of the first. Laurent showed up a few minutes later, presenting an incongruous image as he climbed out of the pearl-white Prius dressed in a shiny, dark brown suit over a buttercream shirt.

"Laurent, this is my best friend Alice. She's here to make sure I don't do anything too crazy."

"A pleasure," he said, dipping his head as he took Alice's hand.

Alice gave him an appraising look then smiled. He was just her type. Her type being something completely different than any man she had dated in the past.

Bella stifled a smile and walked a little behind them as they entered the building. It was relatively new, but her eyes quickly picked out signs of deterioration. Whoever had done the finish work had used lower grade paint and carpet. If they skimped on the cosmetic details, she didn't want to know what other corners they had lopped off during design and construction.

Feeling disheartened, she went through the motions of viewing the unit. It had all the necessary parts - kitchen, bathroom, closets, two bedrooms - but it lacked any sort of character. Again, signs of shoddy workmanship were everywhere. The trim around the door was misaligned. The cabinets weren't quite true. There were laminate floors throughout the living space, but the edges were already showing signs of separation. And the whole place smelled musty.

Bella schooled her features to a neutral expression, but Alice showed her distaste openly. Her snarky comments had Laurent laughing and joining in within minutes.

Laurent stood in the middle of the room and folding his arms. "If you are basing your decision on this lovely lady's advice, we should move on."

"Yeah. That would be best," Bella replied with a sigh.

"After you, then," he gestured, holding the door for them.

Bella and Alice linked arms as they walked down the hall. "So, that was a dud," Bella said, shaking her head.

"But the company is good. And hot. Where did you find him?"

"He can hear you, Alice."

"Good," her friend said with a saucy smile.

Laurent's laugh was a low, mellow sound several feet behind them.

The next property was bigger, and the flaws were purely cosmetic, but it was at the high end of her price range and the building had no amenities to speak of. Furthermore, Laurent revealed that a major maintenance assessment was coming within the next six months, on top of the already high monthly maintenance fees.

The third condominium they viewed was more promising, but when Laurent called the listing agent he was informed that the owner had just accepted an offer twenty thousand over asking. Bella's stomach sank. She hated to admit it, but judging by what they had seen so far in her price range, the home search was not going to end well. She was almost certainly going to have to settle for a slummy condo or just remain in her current rental until she had enough saved up to get a nicer place.

They returned to the first building and climbed into Laurent's car to visit the last two properties, both in older buildings on Capitol Hill. Bella dismissed the first one immediately - the only parking was street parking - but the other was worth considering. She felt like the owner was asking too much, but with properties values still climbing, she was probably lucky to find anything at all. She planned to go home, do some more research on the building, then call Laurent on Sunday morning with her decision.

As they walked back to the car, a "For Sale" sign planted in front of a giant house caught Bella's eye. The three story structure melded brick, stone and heavy timbers. The windows had that slightly blurred look that glass gains as the crystalline structure sags and warps over several generations. The yard was a mess, and there was no driveway or garage, but the property had an undeniable presence. The weather-worn timbers and general air of neglect sparked a surge of romanticism in her chest.

"I wish I was house shopping instead. What does a place like this cost? Four million?" she asked facetiously.

"It's listed at one point seven, but they'll be lucky to get that much," Laurent replied, shaking his head. "I showed the house to a client last month. It's gorgeous, but it needs a lot of work. Such a pity."

"Are you kidding? The land has got to be worth more than that. The views alone must put it over two million," Alice cut in, her eyes bright with curiosity.

"It's not that simple. See that small pillar with the plaque on it? That knocks a million off the price right there. The former owner placed the house on the National Register of Historic Places. When he passed away, his heirs realized that they couldn't sell it for a song. You cannot just knock it down and build something new. And to bring it up to modern standards would be a monumental undertaking. The cost of maintenance on a home like this is staggering, even if it didn't need massive repairs to the retaining walls, roof and plumbing. The electrical was upgraded ten years ago, which helps, but it needs so much more than that."

"Wow. How long has it been on the market?" Bella asked, her feet automatically walking up the flagstone path toward the dark-stained double doors.

"Almost three years. When I spoke to the other agent, she didn't even bother asking if we would be making an offer. Whoever buys this place is going to need deep pockets and a lot of patience."

"Can we see inside?" Alice asked, bouncing up on her toes. Her nose and cheeks were pink, but she wasn't shivering from the cold. She was as excited as Bella had ever seen her.

"It's vacant. Why not?" he shrugged.

Laurent accessed the key box and let them in. As old and heavy as they were, Bella was surprised that the front doors didn't creak. The house smelled the way old libraries do, like dust, wood polish and aged leather. Laurent flicked on the light switch, and the chandelier above the entryway blinked to life, casting a milky yellow glow throughout the foyer. Bella's hand was automatically drawn to the banister railing. The wood was dusty, but polished smooth by a hundred years of hands running over the very same spot.

They toured the house as if it were a museum, gasping at the stunning woodwork, laughing over the absurdly narrow servants' staircase and the low ceilings of the third floor, peeking behind every door and cabinet. The bedrooms were massive. There was a formal dining room with a twelve-foot long dining table, each chair fit for a statesman or visiting dignitary. The kitchen was equipped with appliances from the 1950's, still working at the time of the owner's passing, Laurent assured them.

Bella's heart skipped a beat when she came to the library. A padded window seat overlooked the terraced garden, with views of Queen Anne Hill, Lake Union and the city. It was a cloudy day, but she was certain the view would be breathtaking in the sun. Alice came up beside her, slipping her hand through the crook of Bella's elbow.

"Come see this," she whispered.

Bella followed along, feeling like they were kids again. It was like a giant doll house, and they were playing pretend. Alice led her to a wide iron screen. Bella took a second to register what she was looking at.

"An elevator?"

"Yes!" Alice squealed. "Laurent says it goes down to the carriage house. There's a complete apartment over the garage, with stairs and a walkway from the garden. But the lift is still operational, too."

"There is a garage?" Bella's imagination was running wild. If she had a couple million dollars, she would have slapped it down on the table right then and there. It was rash, it was probably financial suicide, but the impulse was still very powerful. It was a good thing she didn't have the money!

"Allow me, ladies," Laurent said, appearing beside them. He opened the gate and waited until they were both inside the car before activating the counterweight mechanism to lower the elevator. "We're passing the basement now. There is a staircase behind the pantry in the kitchen. The former owner loved billiards. It's somewhat of a man cave, and he left his vintage porn collection behind, but it could be a very nice space."

"Vintage porn?" Alice laughed.

"I'm sure none of his children wanted to claim it publicly. The new owner could almost certainly find a collector who is interested in that sort of thing."

"Cool!" she said, her eyes wide.

"Alice," Bella hissed, mortified. Her face was burning.

"What?" Alice's tone was completely innocent despite the fact that they were talking about porn. She didn't worry about the same things that Bella did.

"Never mind," Bella sighed. Nothing Alice did could shock her that much any more.

The corridor leading to the carriage house was well lit and carpeted with polished wood paneling on the walls. The exterior of the carriage house was all original and needed a fresh coat of paint. At some point, a previous owner had poured a concrete floor. They had also remodeled the apartment above into an independently functioning two-bedroom apartment.

"The heirs were renting this unit out to a long-term tenant until a couple months ago. As you can see, it has modern appliances, and the bathroom was fitted with new fixtures."

"It's perfect," Bella said. The space had character, it was clean, there were two bedrooms, a loft space and a small private garden. It was like a country cottage in the big city, with big windows overlooking the narrow street below. "Can't I just buy this and leave the big house where it is?" she joked.

"That would be great, wouldn't it?" Laurent said, "Maybe they will consider taking on a new tenant. I can ask the listing agent."

"Don't bother," Alice interjected. "I'll take it."

"I'm sorry, what?" Bella asked, her jaw hanging open.

"Eric is a phenomenal craftsman. I'm sure he would love a project like this."

"Eric? The construction guy you dated last summer?"

"Master carpenter. Yep, that's the one. And Mohammed could draw up a Joint Tenancy agreement between us. We can make it a percentage split on paper. You can take out a mortgage and pay whatever you intended to pay all along, but you can have the apartment, and I'll work on the house!"

"Mohammed? That real estate attorney you were telling me about a few months ago?"

"Uh huh. He's brilliant!"

"Um, excuse me," Laurent cut in, sounding confused. "I don't understand…"

"Will they take one point five? Actually, let's just write it up and see what they say." Alice pulled out her phone, and her fingers started flying across the touch screen. "I just need to sell a few things. I can have funds available by Tuesday. Wednesday at the latest."

"You have one and a half million dollars?" Bella asked, sitting down hard on the nearest chair. She felt dizzy.

"More. It's been a good year. Some early gambles have really paid off. Yeah, that'll be no trouble at all. What do you think? Will they accept?" Alice asked looking back and forth between her friend and the realtor.

"Um. You aren't intimidated by the cost of repairs and renovations?" Laurent asked cautiously.

"Of course not. I can get most things well below market. I know a few guys."

Bella snorted, trying not to laugh.

"I see," Laurent said, bemused. "Are you on such good terms with all of your exes?"

"Sure. Why wouldn't I be? I went out with them because I liked and respected them. That shouldn't change just because we're not dating any more. Should it?"

"No. Of course not," he laughed, rubbing his jaw. "You're the most unique girl I think I've ever met."

It appeared that Alice had hooked another one without even trying.

"Yes, she is," Bella agreed, shaking her head. "Sooooo, we're really going to do this?"

"Yes! We could convert it to a bed-and-breakfast, or a museum, or rent out rooms to college students. And I'll set the basement up as a workroom and studio for my designs. I'm getting too old to live with Mom and Pop. Plus, I've never had a chance to use my Interior Design software before. This will be so much fun! And Mario bought out his boss back in March. He's expanding the landscaping business and even has his own licensed arborist. I'm sure he could get the gardens looking marvelous by springtime."

"Another ex?" Laurent asked, laughing.

"Not really. We just studied together a lot. He majored in Finance, too."

"I see. Yes, well, it sounds like you know what you're up against. I'll call the listing agent and get the forms drawn up tonight."

Bella's head was spinning, but she was smiling so much that it hurt. The apartment above the garage was perfect for her. Private, but not secluded. Enough space to stretch out, but not so much that she would need to waste a lot of time cleaning or maintaining it. And the best part of it was, there was nothing here to remind her of Mike or Edward. This would be purely between herself and her best friend.

"Oh, Bella, this is going to be great. Your dad is going to flip! Do you think he would rather stay here or up in the big house when he visits you?"

"I. . ." Bella paused. Things were still quite stilted between her and her father, despite awkward apologies on both sides. She was hoping that things would thaw out a bit before they got to the Brandon's house for Christmas dinner.

"Of course he'll want to stay close to you," Alice raced on. "When he visits, you should both come stay with me up there. I'll have plenty of guest rooms. Let's get some food, then get back together to go over the details. Where can we find you?" Alice asked Laurent, handing him her pink business card with gold embossed writing.

"Come back to my office at 5 o'clock. I'll have everything pulled up and ready for you to review."

"Perfect! Okay, roomie. Let's go cheer up Rosalie. She's going to love this."

"She's going to shoot you with a tranquilizer. She's on bedrest, remember?" Bella asked dryly.

"She's bored out of her mind, remember?" Alice retorted, bumping Bella's hip with her own.

They sat together in the back seat of Laurent's car as he drove them back to their starting place, holding hands and sharing ideas, stumbling over each other's words in their excitement. Bella felt a little like she we standing on the edge of a bluff, rocked by the wind and ocean spray. It was terrifying but exhilarating. Alice had, without even trying, discovered the perfect cure for her heartache.


End file.
